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PANDITA RAMABAI DONGRE MEDHAVI.

Pandita RaMABAI:

Ihc (Story of her ^ifc.

HELEN S. DYER

{Fonnerly of Bombay. ) ' '

•— \»^^^Vvi't?^^^'^'">~

LONDON: MORGAN AND SCOTT,

(Office of " QTIjc (Kbristiait ")

12, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.G.

And may be Ordered of any Bookseller.

INTRODUCTION.

TOWARDS the close of the eighteenth century, when books were
few, a remarkable volume entitled, " Monumental Pillars," was
published for English Christians. It was compiled from authentic
records of the Lord's dealings in providence and grace with individual
Christians ; of summary justice meted out to those who had blasphemed
His name ; of wonderful dreams and their fulfilment ; of preservation of
life through following the inner guidance of the Spirit of God ; and similar
testimonies tending to show the direct individual methods of God with the
children of men, and of the absolute certainty of a particular providential
care over their lives.

The story told in the following pages will show hoAv the Lord, having a
purpose of grace towards the down-trodden widows of India, has raised up
one of that despised class to erect a " Monumental Pillar " to His name.
The whole may be designated as a Record of Answered Prayers and
Fulfilled Promises. Ramabai could well adopt the language of Eliezer of
old, and say, " I being in the way, the Lord led me." The human part of
the work has been persevering faith and obedience ; and as God delights to
honour faith, the blessing has come, and the work has grown.

When, in the providence of God, my husband was obliged to relinquish
the work in India in which we had been engaged for more than ten years,
it was impressed upon my mind that the Lord would have us do something
in England for Ramabai. This book has been written in response to that
impression.

We know also that Ramabai covets the prayers of God's people. It has
therefore been on our hearts to do something to bring this work more
definitely before the Lord's remembrancers in this country. Ramabai is

Jlntrohirtion.

intensely desirous that all the glory should be given to God. In a recent
letter she writes : " I do not want to be in this place, or have anything to
do in connection with it, unless the Lord wants me to be here. It is all
His work, and He will take care of it. He is giving me joy, and grace,
and strength, for the work day by day. I want you to pray very much for
me, that I may be kept very humble and close to Christ." She says that
she has had it on her mind to ask Christian people to form Prayer Circles
specially to pray for the salvation of India's twenty-three millions of
widows. She believes that if two or three believing ones would meet
together and agree upon this subject, and pray specially for it, the Lord
would answer their prayer, and qualify those whom she is training to go
out in increasing numbers with the Gospel message. In a letter I received
from her, in reference to this, she says : " I shall be glad indeed if a Prayer
Circle be organized in England, and the Lord permitting, for you to take a
leading part in organizing it. I tried to get some friends to do it when I
was in England in 1898 ; but it was not the Lord's will then to let the plan
be carried out. I am awaiting His time and orders, and leave everything
to Him."

After much prayerful consideration we have therefore launched the

Sisters of India Peayer Union,

to include first of all the work for India's daughters in the hands of Pandita
Kamabai, and any other work of faith and labour of love carried on by the
women of India for the salvation of their own people. .

I shall be glad to send further particulars to any who may write to me.

Helen S. Dyer.
Aldington, nr. Ilythe, Kent.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

I. The Child of the Forest : An Ouphan ; A Pilgrim ; A

Wife; and a Widow ... ... ... ... ... 9

II. The Hindu Widow begins her Life-work : Lessons

LEARNED IN ENGLAND AND AMERICA ... ... ... 19

III. Dreams become Reality : The School for High-Caste

Widows established in India ... ... ... ... 23

IV. A Visit to the " Sharada Sadan," and a Glimpse at some

of its Pupils ... ... ... ... ... ... 28

V. Some of Ramabai's Pupils become Christian : Opposition

and Persecution ... ... 33

VI. The Marble Halls of Hinduism 39

VII. Plans for the Future; Ramabai's Spiritual Experiences... 45

VIII. Asking Great Things of God 52

IX. The Famine op 1897, and the Rescue of Starving Widows 57

X. "MuKTi" — THE New Settlement at Khedgaon 64

XL Material Progress and Spiritual Advancement 73

Xll. Rescue Work during the Famine of 1900 82

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

Portrait of Pandita PvAmabai Dongre
Medhavi Frontispiece

AnANTI SlIASTRT, THE HiNDU PlONEER

OF THE Emancipation of Women,
AND HIS Family ... ... ... 9

Group of Child-Widows ... ... 12

" Suttee Piles," showing where wid-
ows WERE burned alive WITH THEIR

dead husbands in the old days ... 16

View of the Sharada Sadan, Poona 16

Portrait of Soonderbai Powar ... 24

soonderbai powar in her small ox-
CART 25

One of the Old Girls (two pictures) 25
Champa and Nermadda ... ... 26

Six Pupils of the Sharada Sadan

who have confessed Christ

Sharada Sadan Pupils with their
Hindu Mother ... ... ... 31

Ramabai disguised as a Mahar, a
woman of low caste ... ... 31

A Gujeratiii Lassie ... ... ... 36

Ramabai with a Missionary Friend 37
Missionaries and Biblewomen in Gu-

jerat ...
Two Pictures of Tara

... 41

PAGE

A Hungry Crowd waiting for Rice 48

Rescued Famine Children at Dinner 48

Rescued Widows of the 1897 Famine
marching to Dinner 57

Starved !

... 61

The Barn, the first building erected
AT Mukti ... ... ... ... 64

A Ruined Home ... 68

Frontage of the main building at
Mukti 69

The Grinding-room at Mukti ... 74

Dairy Work at Mukti ... ... 74

Pv.EV. C. B. Ward, MifsioNARY, and
Thomas Francis, a Telugu Christian
Worker, with Famine Children ... 79

A Victim of Starvation

"Saved to Save"

The Hospital at Mukti

... 80
... 82
... 82

The Weaving Industry at Mukti ... 87

The Gardening Staff at Mukti ... 87

Rev, D. 0. Fox, a veteran Missionary
AT Poona, with Mrs. Fox and Miss
Mc Grotty, and Rescued Famine
Boys 92

ANANTl SHASTRI. THE HINDU PIONEER OF THE EMANCIPATION OF WOMEN,

AND HIS FAMILY.

Ilamahai vas the little (tinoj/itur of seven years oj age. veslling I/ij her motlier's side.

PANDITA RAMABAI

mjc Storp of \m WiU.

CHAPTER I.

^In tijiltr of ilj^ Jforist: ^n O^rpljan; ^ IJilgrim; ^ Wiik;

antr a Miboiu.

'Ttod hath chosen the weak thing's of the world to confound the things which are niiglity;
and base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things
which are not, to bring to nought things that are : that no flesh should glory in His
presence." — 1 C'ou. i. 27-29.

AN eloquent commentary on these
inspired words may be found in
the life and work of Pandita Eamabai.
For " God hatli cliosen " in her a weak
Indian widow to do mighty works in His
great name. An emancipated member of J;
a class of women held in the bondage
of idolatry and superstition for ages,
Eamabai, having found light, liberty,
and salvation for herself, seeks the same
for her fellow-widows, her race, and her
country. Measurably in sight of a com-
fortable Government appointment — the
Eldorado of thousands in India — she
gave it up, in the prospect of devoting
herself to the uplifting and enlightening
of Hindu widows. ^

It is characteristic of Ramabai that
5-he works with all her heart and soul
for the highest ideal she knows; and as
soon as more light dawns upon her, she

leaves the things that are behind, and
reaches out to that which opens up in
the vista of the future. This thought
explains the developments of her work
and plans during the past years, and
prepares those who know her well for
further surprising developments in the
future.

If Kamabai's work has not patterned
itself after the exact ideal set out in her
mind when she returned to India in 1.S87
— to begin a school that should open the
paths of knowledge to young widows in
such a way that they should not have to
dread the loss of their ancestral religion j
— it has been prosecuted according to the
pattern revealed to her "in the Mount."'
While still holding open a door to a
liberal education to the high-caste Hindu
widow, without causing her to break her

^ Ileb. viii. 5,

tlj£ mydb of tin Jorrrit.

caste, Kama])ai lias licrself become the
moving spirit in an ajj^gressive, Evangel-
istic, and Industrial Mission.

To sketch the developments of this
work as personally observed by the writer,
is the object of these chapters ; but an
outline of the life-story of this remark-
able woman is necessary for those un-
acquainted with her history.

There are factors in making Ramabai
the woman she is which date back to
forty years before her birth, when her
father, Ananta Shastri, a student at
Poona, was witness of the (to hijii)
astonishing fact that a woman could be
taught to read and recite Sanskrit. His
tutor was also tutor to one of the prin-
cesses in the household of the Royal
Peishwa; and Ananta Shastri made up
his mind that knowledge was an excelieni,
thing for a woman as well as for a man,
and that his v.ife should be taught to
read also. In due time he returned to
his ancestral home in the JManaalore
district; but his bride and his mother
both opposed his efforts to teach the
former, and he was obliged to relincjuish
the plan.

Years passsd ; his family grew \\\), his
■wife died, and he set out on pilgrimage.
From a fellow-pilgrim with daughters he
obtained a tine little girl of nine years
for his second wife, took her home and
delivered her to his mother, as usual, for
domestic training, but asserted liis right
to teach the child to read. Continual

opposition caused him to realize that this
expciiment was likely to fail also; so
he took his wife and started off into the
forest, where a rude home was made.
The child-wife was tenderly cared for, but
sedidously taught ; so that in the process
of years, when womanhood and the cares
of family life came on, it was her voice
that taught the sacred learning of the
Brahmins to the children of the family.
The father was revered as a holy as
well as a learned man, and pilgrims and
students flocked into his forest home.
Karaabai venerates the memory of her
father, believing that, like Cornelius, the
old Brahmin scholar was one of the class
whom Peter confessed to be " accepted "
with God.'

It was in this forest home that Rama-
bai's childhood was spent ; and among
her earliest recollections are those of
being awakened in the early mornings
by a loving mother to hear and repeat
her lessons. Her love of reading was
from a child remarkable. Sanskrit, in
which all the classics of Hinduism are
written, was to her as her mother tongue.
The ponderous volumes which form the
scrij^tures of Hinduism were all acces-
sible to her, and she became familiar
with their contents and doctrines. At
twelve years of age she had committed
to memory eighteen thousand verses from
the Puianas. This religious learning

' Acts X. 35.

(Barlii Dans.

forms the hig^hest education of the Brah-
jBin or priestly caste, to which Ramabai's
jfamily belonged. She says that 1 hough
she was not formally taught jNlarathi,
yet hearing her parents speak it, and
being in the hal)it of reading newspapers
and books in that, language, she ac-
quired a correct kno\Yle(lge of it. In
the same manner when travelling about
she acquired also a knowledge of Kan-
arese, Hindustani, and Bengali. In fact,
she may be said to have a knowledge
of all those dialects of India which are
based on the Sanskrit, the sacred lan-
guage of the East. With her parents
' and brother all enthusiasts in Brahminic
learning, and pioneers in the education
of women, it was no wonder that Rama-
bai's remarkable talents were cultivated,
till she became, under their instruction,
a "prodigy of erudition."

I have before me a photograph taken
in Bombay between thirty and forty years
ago. It is a copy of an old daguerreo-
type, a family group. The father, an
aged man ; the mother, a comely woman
under thirty; a boy and a girl in their
teens; and Ramabai, a little maiden of
seven, nestling at her mother's side.
j Their Spartan adherence to all Hindu
' customs was well illustrated by their
journey to Bombay. They catne from
the INIahibar coast by sea in a country
vessel, and not a morsel of food or a
drop of water passed the lips of one
of them while on the joiu-ney, which

lasted three days — Ramabai remembers
them keenly now, as days of misery.

The poverty that overtook the family
in Ramabai's early teens was partly
caused by the open house kept for so
many years for pilgrims and students ;
and then came the beginnings of the
terrible famine which culminated in
South India in 1876-77, but which,
Ramabai says, was keenly felt by many
three years before. The share of the
ancestral land, to which her brother was
heir, was sold, with his consent, to pay
tlie family debts, and the family went on
pilgrimage. How they parted with all
their money, jewels, and valuables, in
the vain hope of propitiating the gods
and securing a return of fortune's favours,
Ramabai has pathetically told in her
" Famine Experiences," as follows : —

"My recollections carry me back to the
hard times some twenty-two years ago.
The last great famine in the JMadras
I'residency reached its climax in the
years 187G-77, but it began at least
three years before that time. I was in
my teens then, and so thoroughly
ignorant of the outside world that I can-
not remember observing the condition of
other people, yet saw enough of distress
in our own and a few other families to
realize the hard-heartedness of uuciianged
human nature.

" High caste and respectable poor
families, wlio are not accustomed to hard
labour and pauperism, suflfered then, as

Win Cljilb of tiK Foi'^st

they do now, more than the poorer
classes. My own people, among many
others, fell victims to the terrible famine.
We had known
better days.
My father was
a land-holder
and an hon-
oured Pandit,'
and had ac-
quired wealth
l)y hiis learn-
ing-. But by-
and-hy, when
he became old
and infirm
and blind in
the last days
of his earthly
life, he lost all
the property
in one way or
another. ]My
brother,sister,
and myself,
had no secular
education to
enable us to
earn our liveli-
hood by better
work than ma-
nual labour. We had all the sacred
learning necessary to lead an honest
religious life, but the pride of caste and
i superior learning and vanity of life pre-
' A learned man, or teacher.

GROUP OF CHILD-WIDOWS

JVhosc conversation is given in Cliaider IV.

vented our stooping down to acquire j
some industry whereby we might have '
saved the precious lives of our parents.

" In short,
v>'e had no com-
mon sense,
and foolishly
spent all the
mcmey we had
in hand in
giving alms to
Brahmins to
please the
-(id s, w h o,
v.e thought,
would send a
si'.ower of gold
niohurs upon
us and make
us rich and
happy. We
went to several
sacred places
and temples,
to worship
different gods
and to bathe
in sacred
rivers and
tanks, to free
ourselves from

sin and curse, which brought poverty
on us. We prostrated ourselves before
the stone and metal images of the
gods, and })rayed to them day and night ;
the burden of our prayer being that the

^obtrtn anb Drstitutiou.

gods would he pleased to give us wealth,
learning-, and renown. My dear Lrotlier,
a stalwart young- ll-llow of twenty-one,
spoilt his health and wasted his finely
built lx)dy by fasting months and months.
But nothing came of all this futile effort
to please the gods — the stone images
remained as hard as ever, and never
answered our prayers. Oh that we had
found out then that, ' Every man is
brutish in his knowledge ; every founder
is confounded by the graven image ; for
his molten image is falsehood ' ; ' The idols
have spoken vanity, and the diviners have
seen a lie, and have told false dreams ;
they comfort in vain.'

" We knew the Vedanta, and knew
also that we worshipped not the images,
but some gods whom they represented
— still all our learning and superior
knowledge was of no avail. We bowed to
the idols as thousands of learned Brahmins
do. We expected them to speak to us in
wonderful oracles. We went to the
astrologers with money and other presents,
to know from them the mind of the gods
concerning us. In this way we spent
our precious time, strength, and wealtli,
in vain. When no money was left in
hand we beg-an to sell the valuable things
belonging to us — jewelry, costly gar-
ments, silver-ware ; and even the cooking
vessels of hrass and copper were sold to
the last, and the money spent in giving
alms to Brahmins, till nothing but a few
silver and copper coins were left in our

possession. We bought coarse rice with
them and ate very sparingly ; but it did
not last long. At last the day came when
we had finished eatiufj the last arain of
rice — and nothing butdeatli by starvation
remained for our portion. Oh the sorrow,
the helplessness, and the disgrace of the
situation !

" We assembled together to consider
what we should do next; and alter a long
discussion came to the conclusion that it
was better to go into the forest and die
there than liear the disgrace of poverty
among our own people. And that very
nioht we left the house in which we were
staying at Tirpathy — a sacred town situ-
ated on the top of Venkatghiri— and
entered into the great forest, determined
to die there. Eleven days and nights —
in which we subsisted on water and leaves
and a handful of wild dates — were spent
in great bodily and mental pain. At last
our dear old father could hold out no
longer — the tortures of hunger were too
much for his poor, old, weak body. He
determined to drown himself in a sacred
tank near by, thus to end all his eartlily
suffering. It was suggested that the
rest of us should either drown ourselves,
or break the family and go our several
ways. But drowning ourselves seemed
most practicable. To drown oneself in
some sacred river or tank is not con- j
sidered suicide by the Hindus ; so we felt
free to put an end to our lives in that
way. Father wanted to drown himself

mn tljiltJ of tlji> 3FoiT5t.

first ; so he took leave of all the inoinhers
of the family one by one. I was his
youngest ehilcl, and ray turn came last.
I shall never forget his last injunctions to
me. His blind eyes could not see my
face ; but he held me tight in his arms,
and stroking my head and cheeks, he told
me, in a few words broken by emotion,
to remember how he loved me, and how
he had taught me to do right, and never to
depart from the way of righteousness. His
last loving- command to me was to lead
an honourable life if I lived at all, and to
serve God all my life. He did not know
the only true God, but served the — to
him — unknown God with all his heart
and strength ; and he was very desii'ous
that his children should serve Him to the
last. 'Kemember, my child,' he said,
'you are my youngest, my most beloved
child. I have given you into the hand of
our God ; you are His, and to Him alone
;you must belong, and serve Him all your
life.'

" He could speak no more. My father's
prayers for me were, no doubt, heard by
the Almighty, the all-merciful Heavenly
Father, whom the old Hindu did not know.
The God of all flesh did not find it im-
possible to bring me, a great sinner and
unworthy child of His, oiit of heathen
darkness into the saving light of His love
and salvation. I can now say to the
departed spirit of the loving parent —
' Yes, dear father, I will serve the only
true God to the last.' But I conM not

say so when my father spoke to me for
the last time. I listened to him, but w^as
too ignorant, too bewildered to under-
stand him, or make an intelligent answer.
We were after this dismissed from father's
presence ; he wanted an hour for medita-
tion and preparation before death.

" While we were placed in such a
bewildering situation, the merciful God,
who so often prevents His sinful children
from rushing headlong into the deep pit
of sin, came to our rescue. He kept us
from the dreadfid act of being witnesses
to the suicide of our own loved father.
God put a noble thought into the heart
of my brother, who said he could not bear
to see the sad sight. He would give up
all caste pride and go to work to support
oui- old parents ; and as father was unable
to walk, he said he would carry him down
the mountain into the nearest village,
and then go to work. He made his
intentions known to father, and begged
him not to drown himself in the sacred
tank. So the question was settled for
that time. Our hearts were gladdened,
and we prepared to start from the forest.
And yet we wished very much that a
tiger, a great snake, or some other wild
animal would put an end to our lives.
We were too weak to move, and too
proud to beg or work to earn a livelihood.
But the resolution was made, and we
dragged ourselves from the jungle as best
we could.

"It took us nearlv two days to come

^n ODrpban.

out of the forest into a village at the
foot of the mountain. Father suffered
intensely throughout this time. Weakness
caused by starvation and the hardships of
the life in the wilderness hastened his
death. We reached the village with
great difficulty, and took shelter in a
temple; but the Brahmin priests of the
temple would not let us stay there. They
had no pity for the weak and helpless.
^ So we were obliged again to move from
the temple and go out of the village into
the ruins of an old temple v/here no one
but the wild animals dwelt in the night.
There we stayed for four days. A young
Brahmin seeing the helplessness of our
situation gave us some food.

" The same day on wliich we reached
that village, my father was attacked by
fever from which he did not recover. On
the first day, at the beginning of his last
illness, he ai?ked for a little sugar and
water. We gave him water, but could
not give sugar. He could not eat the
coarse food, and shortly after he became
unconscious, and died on the morning of
the third day.

" The same kind young Brahmin who
had given us some food came to our help
at that time. He could not do much.
He was not sure whether we were
Brahmins or not ; and as none of his co-
villagers would come to carry the dead,
he could not, for fear of being put out of
caste, come to help my brother to carry
the remains of my father. But he had

the kindness to let some men dig a giave
at his expense, and f(»llow the funeral
party as far as the river. Father had
entered the Order of the Sannyasin before
his death. So his body was to be buried
in the ground according to the commands
of the Shastras. As there was no one
else to carry the dead, my brother tied
the body in his dhoti' like a bundle, and
carried it alone over two miles to its last
resting-place. We sadly followed to the
river bank, and helped him a little. So
we buried our father outside that village,
away from all human habitation, and
returned with heavy hearts to the ruins
of the old temple where we had taken up
our abode. That same evening our mother
was attacked by fever, and said she would
not live much lonoer; But we had to
leave the place ; there was no work to be
found, and no food to be had. We walked
with our sick mother for awhile, and
then some kind-hearted people gave us a
little food and money to pay our fare as
far as Kaichur. There we stayed for
some weeks, being quite unable to move
from that town, owing to the illness of
our mother. Our life at Eaichur was a
continuous story of hopelessness and
starvation. Brother was too weak to work,
and we could not make up our minds to
go to beg. Now and then kind people
gave us some food. INlother suffered
intensely from fever and hunger. AVe, too,

' The ample cloth Avhicli forms the nether
fzarment of men of the Maiathi castes.

mjt mm of tijc }hvt^t

siiilered from hnno^er and weakness ; but
the sufferings of our mother were more
than we couhl hear to see. Yet we had
to keep still through sheer helplessness.
Now and then, when delirious, mother
would ask for different kinds of food. She
could eat but little; yet we were unable to
give her the little she wanted.

"Once she suffered so much from
hunger that she could bear it no longer,.
and sent me into a neighbour's house to
beg a little piece of coarse bajree cake.
I went there very reluctantly. The lady
spoke kindly to me; but I could on no
account open my mouth to beg that piece
of bajree bread. With superhuman effort
and a firm resolution to keep my feelings
from that lady, I kept the tears back ;
but they poured out of ray nose instead
of my eyes, in spite of me, and the ex-
pression of my face told its own story.
The kind Brahmin lady, guessing what
was in my mind, asked me if I would
like to have some food ; so I said, ' Yes,
I want only a little piece of bajree bread.'
She gave me what I wanted, and I felt
very grateful; but could not say a word
to express my gratitude. I ran to my
motlier in great haste, and gave it to her.
But she could not eat ; she was too weak.
The fever was on her; she became un-
conscious, and died in a few days after
that. Her funeral was as sad as that of
my father, with the exception that two
Brahmins came to help my brother and
me to carry her body to the burning

ground, al)out three miles from the
town.

" I need not lengthen this account
with our subsequent experiences. My
elder sister also died of starvation,
after suffering from illness and hunger.
During those few months before our
sister died, we three travelled on foot
from place to place in search of food
and work ; but we could not get much
of either. My brother and myself con-
tinued our sad pilgrimage to the northern
boundary of India, and back to the east
as far as Calcutta. Brother got work
here and there ; but most of the time we
lived wanderers' lives. Very often we had
to go without food for days. Even when
my brother had work to do, he got so
little wages — only four rupees a month,
and sometimes much less than that — that
we were obliged to live on a handful of
grain soaked in water, and a little salt.
We had no blankets or thick garments
to cover ourselves ; and, when travelling,
we had to walk barefoot, without um-
brellas, and to rest in the night, either
under the trees on the roadside or the
arches of bridges, or lie down on the
ground in the open air. Once on the
banks of the Jhelum, a river in the
Punjab, we were obliged to rest at night
in the open air, and tried to keep off the
intense cold by digging two grave-like
pits, and putting ourselves into them
and covering our bodies — excej)t our
heads — with dry sand of the river bank.

Photo. Mixg A. a. F,0!^(,

[MakoUt, y. U'.P.

"SUTTEE PILES."

Shoiving where widows icere buried alive with their dead h\t,shands in the old da.ys. The v:oman.
standinff by is a Christian widow engaged as a Biblewoman.

VIEW OF THE SHARADA SADAN, POONA.

^ f ilgiim.

Sometimes the demands of hunger were
so great that we would satisfy our empty
stomaclis by eating a handful of wild
berries, and swallowing the hard stones
together with tlieir coarse skins."
N It was during these wanderings with
her brother that Kamabai's faith in the
Hindu religion was shaken, though until
I twenty years of age she worshipped the
jgods of brass and stone. The freedom of
their lives had given to the brother and
sister keen powers of observation, and
they resolved to test the teachings of
the sacred books wlienever possible. The
following is but one of many tests that
exposed the hollowness of their religion,
and the deception of the priests. They
had been taught that in the Himalayas
there was a beautiful lake, in which
were seven floating mountains — the
forms in which seven sages, or Mahatmas,
appeared. When sinless pilgrims came
to the shore, the Mahatmas floated toward
them, and received their worship; but
before the wicked they were immovable.
During their journey ings, Ramabai and
her brother, to their surprise and joy,
found themselves near this lake, and be-
held the mountains. They prostrated
themselves, but received no sign. The
priests warned them against going into
the water, lest they be devoured by croco-
diles ; but the brother, early in the
morning, when the priests were not on
the watch, dared the crocodiles, and swam
out to the mountains. He found them

to be masses of stone and mud planted
with trees, standing on rafts. The whole
mystery was soon cleared. Behind the
mountains a little boat was concealed.
When a poor pilgrim, desirous of being
considered sinless, crossed the palm of a
priest's hand with sufficient coin, and
called on the Mahatmas to float toward
him, a priest in the boat gave the rait a
push toward him, and he went away
happy in his delusion.

While wandering from place to place,
Ramabai had free access to the homes
of the high-caste Hindus ; saw the home-
life in all its cruel details, and resolved
to devote her life to the redemption
of her unfortunate sisters, especially the
child-widows.

Ramabai and her brother gradually
developed into public lecturers in the
cause of the education of women. They
attracted the notice of the Brahmin
community, and received sufficient sup-
port and emolument to put the days
of starvation far behind. In Calcutta,
Ramabai received much attention ; and
a solemn conclave of Pandits bestowed
on her the title of Sarasvati, on account
of her learning. She is the only woman
who has been permitted to call herself
Pandita. The Pandits were astonished at
her learning. Beside her thorough know-
ledge of their sacred books, she had
acquired fluency in seven of the lan-
guages of India ; and her ideas on reform
were remarkable for so young a person.

mt (^Inl^ of tin fotist

Echoes of Eamabai's lectures reached
England even at this early date (Decem-
ber, 1880). A gentleman in India, writing
to a friend here, told of an accomplished
Brahmin lady travelling through Bengal
with her brother, holding meetings on the
education and emancipation of women.
"They were received everywhere," said
this Indian correspondent, " with great
enthusiasm by the Hindus, who were de-
lighted to hear their holy Sanscrit from
a woman's lips. It seemed to them as if
Sarasvati (the goddess of eloquence) had
come down to visit them. Instead of a
hot, confined room, we had a long and
Jsroad terrace open to the sky, and with the
Ganses flowinfj at our feet. The terrace
was shaded from the sun by trees and
houses. At the eastern end a small marble
table, with a glass of flowers on it, and
some chairs were set, and there Ramabai
stood up facing the west and addressed her
audience. On her right was the Ganges,
covered with large, broad-sailed boats,
of a type which perhaps has lasted for
two thousand year's. There was little or
nothing around to remind her or her
audience of European civilization. The
clear, blue sky and the broad river coming-
sweeping down from the walls of Benares
dominated everything else." This writer
adds that " the young lady is twenty-two
years of age, the daughter of a learned
pandit, slight and girlish looking, with
a fair complexion and light grey eyes.
She is now engaged to be married to

a Bengali pleader, an M.A. of Calcutta
University."

Ramabai's parents had, contrary to
custom, refrained from marrying her at
an early age. They had betrothed the
elder daughter in infancy to a youth
whose parents solemnly promised that he
should be educated to equal his bride.
But these people broke their promise,
and great trouble resulted when the time
for consummating the marriage arrived.
Thus it came to pass that to prevent
such a calamity occurring in the case
of their second daughter, her marriage
was put off; and then, at the age of
sixteen, the parents passed away within
six weeks of each other.

Before Ramabai and her brother had
been long in Calcutta, the latter, weakened
by years of privation, was taken ill and died.
His chief concern during his brief illness
was for his unprotected sister. " God will
take care of me,"i5aid she, to comfort him.
"Then," he replied, "all will be well."

Shortly after, Ramabai was married
to the Bengali gentleman referred to
above, Bipin Bihari Medhavi, M.A., who
took her to his home in Assam. The
marriage was a civil rite, for they had
rejected Hinduism, and knew nothing of
Christ. The marriage was a happy one,
but of painfully short duration. In nine-
teen months, cholera snatched away the
husband, leaving Ramabai, with her little
daughter, Manorama (heart's joy), to
begin lier career as an Indian widow.

CHAPTER [I.

®lji IfliuLiit tiotibotu brgins Ij^r liff-titork : ICfssons Irarncb in
(Bnglantr nxxh ^mtvita.

"TIiv words were found, and I did eat them; and Thy word Avas unto me the joy and
rejoicing of mine heart : for I am called by Thy name, 0 Lord God of hosts." — .Ter. xv. 1G.

RAMABAI'S position in her widowed
state differed from that of the
millions of her fellow-cotmtry-
women when bereaved of their natnral
protectors, in that she was not ignorant
of the world and its ways, and by the
fact that she had an education fitting
her to open out a path of usefulness
for herself.

Accordingly, we find her, within a few
months of the death of her husband,
at Poona, the ancient capital of the
I Marathas, having resumed her former
occupation as lecturer on the Education
of Women.

The evil custom of confining high-
caste women within the four walls of the
Zenana, which prevails in the North-
West Provinces and other parts of India,
is unknown among the Bialimins of the
Maratha country. In Poona and Bom-
b:iy all Marathi women are free to walk
and ride abroad, to see and to be seen.
This, and tlie fact that Ramabai had rela-
tives and family connections in Poona,

drew her to recommence her career as a
lecturer at this great centre of Brahminism.

In prosecuting her object, Eamabai
took her stand upon her knowledge of
the Shastras, and maintained that their
ancient teaching enjoined the instruction
of women ; and that the neglected and
ignorant condition of women was a modern
descent into degradation. She advocated
that high-caste girls should be instructed
before marriage in Sanskrit and the ver-
nacular. She also strongly condemned
the practice of child-marriage.

Ramabai's lectures made a wide im-
pression upon the best families in Poona,
and, through her instrumentality, a Society
of high-caste women was formed, having
for its object the education of girls and
the postponement of marriage to maturity.
Encouraged by the success of her work
in Poona, Ramabai went from city to city
throughout the Maratha country, forming
branches of the Arya Mahila Somaj, as
this woman's Society was called. Rama-
bai also busied herself with writing and

^\)t I)inbu Miiiolu kgtns \m lifc-luorh.

translating', in the endeavour to create a
literature helpful to her cause. In lier
leisure hours she gave lessons on morality
and religion to the women of Poona.

It was on Ixamabai's heart during this
time to start an institution for the educa-
tion and succour of helpless widows. In
this class she saw, in faith, the future
teachers of the high-caste girls. But she
failed in getting the necessary financial
support from the Hindu community to
put this cherished plan into execution.
It was here and now, however, that she
rescued her iirst widow. The girl was
a waif of the Poona streets, a Brahmin
child of twelve years, cast out by her
husband's relatives after his death. For
several years slie had lived the life of a
street arab. Her appeal to Ramabai was
not on the ground of starvation and home-
lessness, but on the ever-increasing diffi-
culty of keeping her budding womanly
honour intact. To her homely face and
strange defective eyes she probably owed
her escape from the harpies of vice thus
far.

Ramabai was poor herself, but she took
the girl in, to share whatever food she
had, and to protect her from wrong and
outrage. She is now a useful Bible-
woman, labouring in connection with
Ramabai's settlement at Mukti.

In 1882 the British Government

appointed a Commission to inquire into

; the question of Education in India. The

terms of reference included the definite

and separate question of female educa-
tion ; and when the Commission visited
Poona, it was invited to a reception by
over three hundred Brahmin women con-
nected witl] Ramabai's Arya Mahila
Somaj, who with their children assembled
in the Town Hall at Poona. Ramabai
was the speaker, and her subject the
Education of Women.

Subsequently Ramabai was examined
before the Commission, and the President
was so struck with her evidence that he
had it translated from the Marathi and
printed in English. In her replies to the
questions put by the Commission, Ramabai
told of her father's strenuous efforts for
the education of women, of her brother's
views, and those of her late husband, who
was a Vakil, ^ and fellow of Calcutta
University. She told the Commission!
that she felt herself bound to the end of
her life to labour on behalf of her country-
women. She advocated that Girls'
Schools should have specially trained
women teachers ; that women inspectors
should also be employed ; and concluded
with a forcible appeal that Government
should make provision for the study of
medicine by women, doctors of their own
sex being, in her opinion, one of the
greatest needs of the women of India.

The publicit}' given to the proceedings

of the Education Commission brought

Ramabai into notice in circles other than

the Marathi Brahmins. She now began

^ A lawyer.

©uibrb bij tijc ICoiii.

to foel that she herself needed more
traininjr and experience in regard to the
education of others. At this time she
was unacquainted with the English
language, although so well versed in those
of India ; and the idea that she should go
to England for study and training forced
itself again and again upon her mind.

Ever since the death of her brother, and
more particular^ again after her husband
died, Eamabai had felt in an undefined
manner that God was guiding her. Dis-
illusioned by painful experiences during
her girlhood from the superstitions of
Hinduism, she was still working from the
Hindu standpoint. She knew but little
of Christianity, and had no thought of
becoming a Christian, but believed in an
all-powerful deity whom she felt to be
guiding her. Her mind became possessed
of a divine unrest ; and given the oppor-
tunity, she one day found herself bound
for England — going forth, as she says,
like Abraham, not knowing whither she
went. Arriving in England with her
baby daughter, Kamabai was kindly
received by a Church of England Sister-
hood at Wantage, a community having a
mission at Poona. Here she remained
for a year, studying the English language,
and adding to her stock of information in
many ways.

Four years before, when in Calcutta,
Eamabai had made her first acquaintance
with the Christian Scriptures. Keshub
Chunder Sen, the founder of the lirahmo

sect of Eeformed Hindus, had given her
a little book of precepts from all religions,
most of which were from the New Testa-
ment. This greatly attracted her; and
later she possessed herself of a complete
Bible, and commenced to read it.

At Wantage, time and opportunity to
study the subject were afforded ; and here
Eamabai confessed herself a Christian, and
was baptized, with her little daughter,
according to the custom of the Church of
England, on September 29th, 188.3.

The difference that Eamabai at that
time discerned between the good precepts
of the Hindu Scriptures and the Gospel
of Jesus Christ she thus expressed :
" While the old Hindu Scriptures have
given us some beautiful" precepts of lov-
ing, the New Dispensation of Christ has
given us the grace to carry these princi-
ples into practice; and that makes all the
difference in the world. The precepts are
like a steam engine on the track, beautiful
and with great possibilities ; Christ and
His Gospel are the steam, the motive
power that can make the engine move."

After the year spent at Wantage,
Eamabai received the appointment of
Professor of Sanskrit in the Cheltenham
Ladies' College, where she found oppor-
tunity to study mathematics, natural
science, and English literature. The
immediate goal of her mental horizon was
at this time bounded by a possible
Government appointment in connection
with the education of women in India.

^\n Wititin Wiibob3 brgins Ijrr lifr-tuorh.

A year and a half was spent at Chelten-
ham, when an invitation to visit America
opened out a new vista before Ramabai's
eyes, and led to important results. A high-
caste Hindu lady from Poona, a friend
and relative of Ramabai, had followed her
in her determination to be of use to the
millions of their fellow-countrywomen.
Anandibai Joshi had reached America,
and studied medicine in the Women's
Medical College of Philadelphia. She
was now about to graduate as M.D., and
the invitation to Ramabai was to witness
this ceremony. Ramabai's mind was
agitated, she did not desire any interrup-
tion to her studies ; but finally (^me to
the conclusion that it would be a help to
her life-work to visit America. She went
with the intention of staying a few weeks.
She stayed almost three years.

The public school system of America —
including girls as well as boys, and the
Kindergarten, training hand as well as
head — greatly attracted Ramabai. She
felt she must remain and study these ; and
in the course of a few months she enrolled
herself for a course of Kindergarten study
in a Philadelphia training school.

In Rachel Bodley, A.M., M.D., the
Dean of the Women's Medical College in
Philadelphia, Ramabai found a true friend,
and with her also a home. Dr. Bodley
had sheltered Anandibai Joshi, and helped
her in her studies ; and the sad news of
the untimely death of that devoted
little Indian woman, a few months after

her return to her husband and home
in India, bound Dr. Bodley more closely
to Ramabai, and evoked in her a keener
interest in her plans for the future. For
now all Ramabai's old desire to benefit her
countrywomen by founding schools which
combined the training of the hand with
that of the head, revived ; and forsaking
plans which regarded only the higher edu-
cation of the few women jn Government
High Schools or Colleges in India, she con-
centrated her thoughts upon native schools
founded by and for native women.

While living with Dr. Bodley and study-
ing Kindergarten methods, Ramabai
wrote her famous book, entitled, "The
High-Caste Hindu Woman." Here she
portrayed the true history of countless
thousands of lives doomed by a perverted
and decaying religious system to lifelong
ignorance ; to child-marriage with all its
evils; to the absorption of young wives
into the joint family system ; to the
terrible abuse and degradation of widow-
hood ; and to the re-action of this treat-
ment of women upon social and family
life in India.

Dr. Bodley prefaced the book with an
admirable treatise, sketching the devoted
life and early death of Anandibai Joshi,
relating Ramabai's history, and supporting
and enforcing her appeal for help to go
back to India and found an educational
home for yoimg widows, who in their turn
should go forth as teachers to enlighten
the darkness of their countrywomen.

CHAPTER III.

tlri'ams hicotnt lUaiitvi : %he ^rljool for ¥)t0lj-Cast£ Miboltis

fstablisljfb in Intiia.

"lie brought them forth also with silver and "old." — Vsx. cv. 07,

" ' I ^HE silence of a thousand years has
X. been broken ! " aptly declared
Dr. Bodley in her preface to
Ramabai's volume, entitled, " The High-
Caste Hindu Woman."

Missionaries and travellers had had
many a story to tell of the inaccessi-
bility of Hindu women immured witliin
the seclusion of the Zenana. Those who
had gained access behind the purdah, or
mingled with the castes not entirely
secluded, had felt the wall of separation
raised by Oriental customs ; so that, as
yet, but a corner of the vail had been
lifted. But now a voice had arisen from
among themselves to tell with intimate
knowledge how the iron-bound customs
of centuries had ground woman into
a position of servitude and ignorance ;
making her at one and the same time
the slave of man, and his greatest hin-
drance in rising to the higlier plane of life
held out by the religion of Jesus Christ. _

The book opened the way for Ramabai
to the hearts of a class of cultured, earnest
American women, who became deeply

interested in the story of the imprisoned,
contracted lives of India's daughters.
Many of these were the abolitionists of
America's great anti-slavery struggle of
the previous decades. In the ranks of
tlie Woman's Christian Temperance Union
Ramabai found much help and encourage-
ment. The late Frances E. Willard be-
came her warm friend, and through her
influence much interest was evoked.

Ramabai's lifelong desire to educate
Hindu widows — that through them a door
might be opened into the dense darkness
of Hinduism — now took tangible sl)ape.
Ramabai travelled up and down the United
States, speaking to large audiences here,
and drawing-room meetings there, gain-
ing interest and forming circles of help;
at the same time exercising an alert eye
with regard to every kind of educational
enterprise with which she came in con-
tact, noting many points for adaptation
to the wt)rk in India later on.

At an overflowing meeting held in
Boston in May, 1887, when the audience
was moved to tears and laughter by her

Dri?ams Iifronw H^alitiu

pathos and keen wit, a provisional com-
mittee of women was formed to consider
Ramabai's plans — to act with her, and
report later. On December 13th of the
same year, at another public meeting, the
Provisional Committee presented a report
that was ac-
cepted, a list of
officers who were
elected, a consti-
tution that was
adopted; and the
temporary Asso-
ciation became
an organized
body — it seemed
to spring into
existence — and
Ramabai saw her
long-cherished
plans take defi-
nite form. That
night her joy
was too great
for sleep : when
found sobbing in
her room, she ex-
claimed, " I am
crying for joy
that my dream of years has become a
reality." The President and Vice-Presi-
dents of the Association comprised mem-
bers of five denominations; the Board
of Trustees, composed of some of the
best business and professional men of
Boston, was equally uusectarian, as was

SOONDERBAI POWAR.

For seven years the "right hand" of Ramabai at the
Sharada Sadan. tike is knoion in Britain for her visits in
protest against the deadly Opium Traffic.

the Executive Committee, formed entirely
of women.

Among converts to Christianity in
India, especially those of the older Mis-
sions, there is a frequent trend towards
a European style of living, fostered
in some cases,
without any in-
tention on the
part of the mis-
sionary, by the
life in Christian
boarding-schools,
conducted after
European plans.
This, by setting
Western ideals of
life before the
Indian Christian,
leads to discon-
tent with the
simple native
customs of food
and dress. Their
incomes will not
support them in
Western luxu-
ries ; and, in
consequence, the
converts find themselves frequently in
debt and difficulty.

This aspect of conversion to Cliristianity
is looked upon with great disfavour by
the Hindu community ; and by its more
ignorant members is regarded as part of
the Christian religion. Ramabai keenly

SOONDERBAI POWAR

In the small ox-cart in irhich she risiis the women of Poona in their homes.

ONE OF THE OLD GIRLS.

As she entered the Horn

And after thru i,cars residence then

^isit to ^nurtra.

felt this anomaly ; and realizing that
Christianity was an Asiatic religion, and
as such ought to be adaptable to India
without any Western additions, she wisely
determined to maintain her Indian habits
in all customs of food and dress. She
would show her country people, on her
return to India, that to become Christians,
it was not necessary to denationalise them-
selves.

In fact, Kamabai's strict vegetarian
diet must have caused some difficulty
to her American hostesses, even as their
grand dinners, of which she could eat
so little, were a source of embarrassment
to her. Brought up as she had been,
with an intense repugnance to any kind
of flesh-eating, it was an ordeal to be
seated at table in the place of honour
next to the host, with a smoking joint
of meat in front of him (the smell of
which overpowered her), and to have to
decline everything except a little bread
and plain vegetable. But Ramabai per-
severed in her determination, and returned
to India as much of a Brahmin in food
and habits, save as to their religious as-
pects, as she left it.

Ramabai having become a Christian,
placed her, however, in a more serious
jdifficulty than that of food, viz., the
'place in regard to religion which her edu-
cational home for widows should occupy.
1 She had left her country in full sympathy
1 \with the more advanced Hindu reformers;
fehe was returning, having cut herself off

from their sympathies by becoming a
Christian. But she yearned more than
ever to reach her own people ; and the
only method that approved itself to
her judgment was to offer an education
neutral as to religious teaching. Her
plans in this respect were fully criticised
as she went about expounding them to
American audiences.

Many spiritually-minded people com-
mitted to missionary enterprise could
not see why Ramabai should not cast in
her lot with some Mission, and open an
avowed Mission School. But Ramabai
was strongly of opinion that no Mission ,
School would reach the class for which her ■
heart was aching. The people were too
prejudiced against Christianity. Their
widows were taught that it was better to
commit suicide and be sure of heaven,
rather than enter any institution estab-
lished for the purpose of turning them
from their ancestral faith.

In the midst of this controversy, Rama-
bai cast no slur on Missions or Mission
work; but she rallied many to her stan-
dard outside of the ordinary supporters of
Missions. In an interview with the re-
presentative of a Chicago daily paper, in
December, 1887, on being asked to give
her opinion on the good done by mission-
aries in India, Ramabai said : " Mission-
aries are showing by their precepts and
example that Christianity does not mean
going into other countries and taking
possession of them, putting taxes upon

I warns bttamt H^alitg,

the people, introducing the liquor traffic,
and gaining a great deal of revenue from
the infamous traffics in rum and opium.
As their numbers multiply they are gain-
ing a foothold in the country, and also
commanding the love and respect of the
people by their earnestness in missionary
work. . . . And finally, the blessed
Gospel will be everywhere preached by
the missionaries; and I hope some day
we shall owe to their labours and their
prayers a great army of Christian apostles
among our people who will eventually
regenerate the whole Hindu nation
through their lives and their teachings."

In the same interview, with a variety
of illustrations, Ramabai enforced her be-
lief that the work she desired to do
would prepare the way of missionaries
by enabling widows to rise to an in-
dependent position in which they would
be free to accept Christianity as she her-
self had done. " Christ," argued Ramabai,
"came to give different gifts to different
people — some He made prophets ; some
He made preachers ; some He made
teachers. Since I have become a Chris-
tian I have thought He has given me
the gift of being a sweeper. I want to
sweep away some of the old difficulties
that lie before the missionaries in their
efforts to reach our Hindu widows."

Ramabai further declared her belief
that having the widows brought under
the influence of her school, with the
Bible placed in the hands of every pupil,

Christian women as teachers, and Chris-
tian literature in its library, many would
be won to see the beauty of Christianity,
and embrace it for themselves.

Thus it came to pass that the platform !
of her work was declared to be neutral j
as to its religious teaching. Her Hindu |
pupils were to have full liberty to retain '
their caste, and perform their religious I
observances.

In due time the "Ramabai Associa-
tion " was complete. Its headquarters
were in Boston ; its base, " Ramabai
Circles," in towns and cities all over
the country. Members of circles pledged
themselves to give or collect a certain
sum annually for ten years, to equip
and sustain a home and school in India
for the education and support of high-
caste Hindu widows.

In May, 1888, Ramabai bade good-bye
to her Boston friends and went on to
Canada, and thence to the Pacific Coast,
gaining friends and forming circles all
the way. In November of the same
year she left America for India via San
Francisco and Hong Kong, and thus got
a glimpse of China on the way. She
arrived in Bombay on February 1st,
1889, and chose that city in which to
commence her work. Six weeks later the
Widows' Home was quietly inaugurated
in a house just back of the Chowpatty
Sea-face. The modest announcement of
" Sharada Sadan " (Abode of Wisdom) was
placed on a board on its frontage. School

< >

Q .■

Q ~-

< ,

< ~

< ^

^ht ".^Ijaraba .^a5an/

commenced with two pupils, and the
alphabet in three languages, Marat hi,
English, and Sanskrit. One of the
pupils had thrice attempted suicide,
restrained only by the fear of being
again born a woman. She is now the
educated wife of a professor in Poona
College, and a happy mother.

The Hindu Keform circles in Bombay
and Poona gave Kamabai a welcome ;
her assurances of neutrality as to re-
ligion were generally, though cautiously,
accepted ; and, in a short time, more
pupils of the desired class were obtained.
Eamabai went in and out among the
Hindus, and had frequent opportunities
of lecturing as of yore, when she always
commanded a large audience.

Miss Soonderbai H. Powar, at that time
eno-aged in work among women in con-
nection with one of the Bombay Missions,
first brousrht me news of Eamabai and

her work. She had visited Ramabai and
been introduced to the pupils in resi-
dence. Her calling as a teacher of the
Bible had been explained to them, and
an opportunity to give a talk on the
Bible and Christianity was afforded her.
Ramabai's little daughter, Manorama,
then about nine years old, had won
Soonderbai's heart, by insisting that
she was a Christian, and that the Bible
was her Shastra.

In the course of a year or so, Ramabai
moved the Sharada Sadan to Poona, as
being a more healthy place, cheaper, and
more suitable in every way for the work
than Bombay. In 1892, through the
continued generosity of her American
friends, she was enabled to purchase a
commodious bungalow in a fine position
in Poona, standing in about two acres of
ground, which made an admirable home
for the Sharada Sadan.

CHAPTER IV.

^ ^iait to tl)i " ^Ijaratra ^atran/* aitft a (llltmpsi at sotrii of

its Ipupils,

" Wisdom hath builded her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars." — Pnov. ix. 1,

THE house that Eamabai secured for
the permanent location of the
Sharada Sadan in Poona stands
well iDack from the road ; but to make the
position still more secluded, Ramabai
lined the walls that divided it from the
road with a screen of trellis-work. This,
covered with creeping vines and backed
by flowering shrubs, added to the bowery
appearance of the garden. The garden,
occupying nearly half the compound, was
dotted here and there with fine shade
trees, the gold mohur, the plumeria, and
others, which are covered with gorgeous
flowers in their season. Roses and lilies,
jasmine and elemanta, variegated crotons,
caladiutns, bouganvillia, and the hundred
and one tropical shrubs that are cherished
greenhouse plants in our colder atmo-
sphere, luxuriate in the beautiful climate
of the deccan of India. Nowhere are they
seen to more perfection than at Poona ;
and Ramabai's garden has always abounded
with them. A shaded fernery, planted
around a fountain close to the house,
affords a cool retreat for the heat of the

day. Ramabai, as a child of the forest,
was ever an enthusiastic lover of flowers,
and longed for her pupils to take delight
in them also.

The house had its outer and inner apart-
ments, like all houses built for Hindu
family use. To these Ramabai added two ,
long dormitories, built one above the
other. The upper was reached by a stone
staircase outside, a further flight of stairs
leading to an enclosure on the roof, from
which to study the stars.

" This is not an institution in which all
the best rooms are reserved for the teach-
ing staff," remarked Ramabai, to a party
of visitors she was showing over the build-
ing on the occasion of its opening cere-
monies in July, 1892. "My pupils," she
continued, "are as free to come and go in
the drawing-room as in any other part of
the house. The Sadan with all its privi-
leges has been instituted for their benefit.
They come from homes where they have
been treated as outcasts, where no love
has been bestowed upon them, and no
comforts provided for them. I wish them

jHiss ^Dontitrliai JJoluan

to see the contrast in all things where
love rules. I wish them to become
acquainted with as many good people as
possible ; to learn what the outside world
is like from pictures and books ; and to
enjoy the wonderful works of God. as they
ramble in the garden, study with tlie
microscope, or view the heavens from the
little verandah on the roof"

The Pandita's aims, as thus set forth by
herself, represented truly the atmosphere
of the Sharada Sadan as I found it on my
first visit at that time. The pupils came
and went everywhere, learned their lessons
in groups in the drawing-room, or walked
in the garden by twos and threes, gathered
roses and lilies for each other and the
visitors, made wreaths of jasmine and
decked each other's hair.

"Bai," the usual Hindu title for the
mistress of the house, was Eamabai's home
appellation ; while that of Miss Soonderbai
Powar was " Ukka *' (elder sister). A few
months previously Miss Powar had taken
up her abode with Eamabai as companion
and friend ; ^and as loviug elder sister to
the pupils her influence has been blessed
in a marked degree. Out of school hours
the girls followed Eamabai about and
clustered around her like bees ; while
Soonderbai's little room was usually
crowded with pupils coming and going,
sure of a hearing and help in any difficult
phase of work or lessons.

The " good-night" scene, repeated with
variations on all my visits to the Sadan

during the subsequent seven years, was
one to be enjoyed and remembered.
When the retiring bell rang, wherever
"Bai" and "Ukka" were to be found,
there the girls and women flocked in.
Every one must have a good-night kiss —
from the Brahmin woman of forty, who
did the cooking, to the youngest child-
widow. Some of them were not satisfied
with one embrace, but would slyly come
up a second time out of their t\n-n, till
the fun would get a little too riotous, and
a summary dismissal was necessary.

There were then about forty widows in
residence, ranging in age from little girls
of seven to the aforesaid Brahmin cook of
forty. But the majority were from fifteen
to twenty-five. Most of the older women
had their heads shaved, and wore their
sarees drawn close around their faces to
hide this disfigurement imposed upon
them by cruel custom.

At the time of the opening cerem.»^ny
in 1892, the schoolroom? were in the
inner apartments, the verandahs being
used as class-rooms. This was but a tem-
porary arrangement, for the foundations
were already in for a fine school-house in
the compound opposite the entrance to
the original building. This was com-
pleted and used a twelvemonth later.
The other rooms were then utilized as
dormitories for an increased number of
pupils.

The opening ceremonies were in two
sections. In the morning a company of

^ lliGit to iht " mjaraH ^atran/*

missionaries and Christian friends of
various denominations assembled in the
drawing-room for a dedication service.
Eamabai said she desired a public thanks-
giving to Grod for all the way He had led
her, and for the provision of this beautiful
building which had been given them by
Christians in America. The speaking and
prayers, in which many present took vocal
part, were in line with this thought. One
of the speakers closed his remarks with a
Scriptural quotation which may now le
looked back upon in the light of a
prophecy. Turning to Eamabai he said :
" My sister, ' The Lord shall increase
you more and more, you and your
children.' ^ *'

In the evening the schoolroom was
gaily decorated and filled with a sym-
pathising company of Eamabai's Hindu
friends, relatives of the pupils, and a few
Europeans. Addresses in Marat hi were
given by Eamabai and others. The
pupils sang a number of Mnrathi songs,
one of which, describing the woes of the
widow, was very toucliing. An American
White Eibbon song was nicely rendered
by a few of the girls ; and four of them
gave, with marvellous correctness, an
English dialogue, representing a scene in
the life of Peter the Great, Thus it will
be seen that their education had made
considerable advance since the alphabet
commencement before-mentioned.

It was my privilege at this time to
^ Psalm CSV. 14.

spend several days at the Sadan. The
loving spirit that prevailed, and the all-
pervading energy of the bright little
woman at the head of the house, were
two features of the work that remained
with me. There was never any trace of
Oriental languor about Eamabai ; what-
ever she did she did with her might.
Whether hearing the pupils recite their
Marathi lessons, directing the mialis in
the garden, overseeing the workmen on
the new building, or explaining the
operations of the institution to a party of
visitors — she was all life and energy, the
centre and circumference of all that was
going on.

I was particularly attracted by a happy
group of child-widows, some half-dozen or
more, about ten to twelve years of age.
Such bright little girls ! It was difficult
to believe that they rested under the cruel
ban of widowhood ! But even their games
echoed the circumstances of their lives.
One of these, in which there was an
amount of screaming and running away,
was explained to me. It was the new
child-wife being tutored by her mother-
in-law in domestic affairs, and, persistently
misunderstanding her commands and
bringing her the wrong articles, was being,
in consequence, chased and punished !

Somewhere about this time one who
heard it took down a conversation be-
tween some of these little girls, in which
occurred the following passages, illustrat-
ing the condition of girl-children who.

LU 5!i

I -2

Q -

3 s-

®I)c €nid 16an of MiboluIjonLr.

not knowino^ what marriage means, are
yet widows : —

ViTTO : " I was a mere baby when I
■was married. We do not look like wives,
do we ? Yet people call me a ' widow,'
* unlucky,' and say I have killed my hus-
band."

Chanda : " I also am a widow, because
my parents say so ; but what is the mean-
ing of it I do not understand. They say
I shall have to suffer much as I grow
older. No one will love me because I
killed and swallowed my husband ; but I
never saw him. I do not know who he
was. Since I am come to this school all the
teachers love me ; they try to make me
happy, and they never say unkind words
to me or think I am unlucky."

SUNDRI : " Prya, let us hear your
history, and I will tell mine."

Prya : " My father knew I would be a
widow, but he purposely gave me in
marriage."

All the Girls : " Prya, Prya, do not
say so ! How could he know what would
be in the future ? "

ViTTO : " Well, sometimes parents do
it for money. Do you know of one girl
who was here in the school, and was
obliged by her ignorant people to leave ?
The poor thing was married when she was
five years old. She was given to a man
of fifty for a hundred rupees. Within a
year the miserable man died, leaving
behind him a widow six years old ! Don't
you think her parents must have had sense

enough to know that such a small child
given to an old man would become a
widow ? But they want money, or do it
when they are tired of their daughter."

The other girls chimed in with remin-
iscences of the cruel treatment meted out
to this hapless widow of six years by her
husband's relatives.

Then Prya said : " You will get thou-
sands of case3 like that. My mother died
when I was nine months old. When I
was two years and six months my father
wanted me to be married. He gave me
in marriage to a little boy, who died six
months afterwards, when I was three.
My mothers friend took care of me till I
was six ; then my father brought me to
Bombay. I lived with him four years,
cooked for myself, and was very unhappy.
My father was a strict Hindu, and d'id not
love me because I was a widow. My
mother's uncle put me in this school. My
father did not like it, and came to Poona
to fetch me out, but was taken ill. I went
to see him. He said he wanted to see
my head shaved and disfigured. But he
died soon, and I was free."

The poor little mites concluded their
conversation by unanimously refusing to
consider themselves widows; and, rejoicing
in the freedom and happiness found at the
Sharada Sadan, they ran away to play.

Soon after Parnabai settled her Sharada
Sadan at Poona, she paid a visit to the
ancestral home of her family in the
Mangalore district, where she was well

1 ITisit to iMt "^Ijaratta .^atran,"

received by her relatives. On her return
to Poona several young widows from the
extensive Brahmin community of the
former place accompanied her, and be-
came her pupils. The case of one poor
ill-used girl-widow at this place had
especially attracted Kamabai's attention,
and she much desired to rescue her.
This girl was used most cruelly by her
relatives. She was beaten for the slight-
est fault. She was also punished by
being suspended from the rafters of the
roof by her wrists, while a heap of
prickly pear-bush was placed underneath
to receive her if she should succeed in
freeing herself. Another punishment
was to shut her in a cook-house with
l)urniug chillies (red peppers) on the
fire ; this produces a most irritating-
smoke, and, often repeated, injures the
eyesight. This poor girl was a most
unhappy creature, fearful and suspicious
of everybody. Ramabai tried in vain
to gain her confidence, and her relatives
treate'd with contempt the idea of giving
her an education.

Ramabai's diplomacy then led her to try
another plan. She invited the mother-
in-law and one other female member of
the family to pay her a visit with this girl.
They came, and were courteously esta-
blished on the compound, and a cookhouse
appropriated to their use, their caste prin-
ciples making separate cooking needful.
Ramabai entertains like a princess, and the
visitors felt themselves highly honoured.

Some weeks passed away, during which
time Ramabai did all she could to gain
the confidence of the unhappy girl,
who, however, did not appear to be
miich more cheerful in spite of her
change of surrounding?, and the appar-
ent change in the way she was treated.
When she did at last open her heart
to Ramabai, it was found that the course
of ill-treatment had really never ceased;
that these women had contrived to beat the
girl daily since their arrival at the Sharada
Sadan, and frequently to lock her in the
cookhouse and leave her there for hours.

As soon as Ramabai felt convinced
that the unhappy victim trusted her,
and would stand by her intention to
remain, she told the other women that
they might leave — a perfectly polite in-
timation according to Hindu custom.
There was some trouble when they found
the young widow determined to remain ;
but as she was over the age at which they
could legally have forced her to return,
they had to submit with the best grace
they could, especially when they found
Ramabai took her part. This young
woman has long been a professing Chris-
tian, and a useful helper in the Sharada
Sadan ; but I always think her face
bears traces of those years of systematic
ill-usage. Probably the reader will be
able to identify the heroine of this
story in the picture of " Six Pupils of
the Sharada Sadan who have become
Christians," on page 26.

CHAPTER V.

^ome of flamaliat's pupils htcomt ©Ijristian: (Deposition anb

^^rsifution.

"Blessed are they which do huno^er and thirst after rij-hteousness, for they shall be tilled."

(Matt. v. G.)

T is altogether too bad that I
should have all the blame on
earth, and Eamabai all the re-
ward in heaven," piquantly remarked
Sponderbai Powar, when relating some
stirring: events that occurred at the
Sharada Sadan in the early months of
1893.

" The people are saying it is all
because I am living with Eamabai that
the girls are becoming Christians, and
that I am the cause of all the trouble ;
but I have been away in England for
several months, and on my return find
all the girls attending Eamabai's prayer-
meetings. How could it be my fault ? "

Nevertheless, it was apparent that
Soonderbai was rejoiced at these de-
velopments, and not so very much in-
/ wardly disturbed at the blame meted
out to her by the offended Brahmin
community.

Since leaving America to begin her
life-work in India, spiritual enlargement
had come to Eamabai. From time to

time, in the early part of the past decade,
India was visited by earnest Christian
evangelists from Britain and America.
Such men as Lord Eadstock, Dr. Pentecost,
Henry Varley, John McNeill, and a host
of others not so well known, have gone
on what are called " cold-weather tours,"
visiting the large cities, and addressing
European audiences, and also natives
through an interpreter. Each of these
seemed to have some special message,
and most were greatly helpful in re-
emphasizing the foundation truths of the
Christian faith, leading many out into
a truer and deeper Christian experience.

Eamabai always eagerly embraced these
opportunities, and, as she learned new
lessons, incorporated them into her life
and practice. In all these various minis-
tries that helped her, it is but fair to say
that Eamabai studied her Bible and made
sure there was a " Thus saith the Lord "
for all that she accepted. It was her
practice then, and still is, to devote the
early morning hour, from five to six a.m.,

^0im of Kamabai's ^pxtpils htcomt Christian.

to the study of God's Word and prayer.
In those days she was iisuolly joined by
Soonderbai, her own little daughter,
Manorama, and that section of her pupils
whom she ealled her own family.

In the prosecution of her work, Eama-
bai was continually meeting with high-
caste girls who were not widows, but who
were in circumstances of destitution and
moral danger. Eamabai's American sup-
porters gave her a generous personal
allowance, very little of which sufficed
for her own simple needs. She employed
the surplus in caring for a number of
these poor girls, who, not being widows,
but either deserted wives or destitute
orphans, were not eligible for support
from the funds of the Sadan. Some of
these were maintained in Mission Schools
at Eamabai's expense, and she received
some as members of her own family. A
few she adopted entirely, they having no
natural guardians to whom they owed any
sort of allegiance.

Eamabai felt it was her duty to in-
struct these girls in the principles of the
Christian religion. They were therefore
aroused an hour before the other inmates
of the Sadan to join in the early morning
Scripture study and prayer. Neither was
the door closed against any others who
might be drawn to come and listen from
motives of curiosity, or from a genuine
desire to learn what it was in Eamabai's
religion which made her so different
from any one they had ever known before.

And they did come, till, at the time of
Soonderbai's return to India in the spring
of 1893, fully half of the widows were
attending these early morning meetings,
and the Spirit of God was evidently
applying the teaching powerfully to
many hearts.

At this time there were two other resi-
dent teachers in the school, who, though
professing Christians, neither showed any
sympathy with the movement nor at-
tended the prayer-meetings.

As in a thrifty English household
fruits are preserved and pickles made
for winter use, so a good Brahmin
housewife has her season for drying and
preparing a store of various fruits and
lierbs for use during the rainy season.
Their period comes in the month of May,
while ours is an autumn function. At
this time, the middle of the hot weather,
school holidays were given in Poona :
Eamabai's store room was likewise re-
plenished— and a vacation from school
work meant the employment of the girls
in all the mysteries of preserving, pick-
ling, and preparing tamarinds, limes,
mangoes, chillies, and the various spices
used in the complicated culinary art
as understood in well-managed Brahmin
households. But it was not all work ;
now and then some delightful excursion
was arranged, looked forward to, and
much enjoyed.

It was the time of an Indian festival
in the middle of these holidays, and on

yovmiug a (Cljiiotian (Cuiiinxliour .^orittn.

the eve of the principal day of the feast
Ramabai told her pupils that she had
ordered conveyances for the morrow to
take them to a beautiful spot, a few
miles away, for a picnic. They would go
in charge of the aforementioned teaclieis,
and she trusted they would have a very
happy time. To the eager inquiries as to
why Bai and Ukka were not going, she
replied that they had need of a day alone
with God ; adding that if any of the girls
wished to stay and join them, they were
at liberty to do so. Out of a total of
sixty or sixtj'-iive, about thirty elected to
forego the picnic and remain for a day
of prayer. The whole day was spent in
devotion, the study of the Scriptures,
prayer, and exhortation. Before it was
ended, more than twenty declared them-
selves to be inquirers after the truth, and
some seemed to have really received it
into their hearts with joy and gladness.

Eamabai and Soonderbai were filled
with joy. A small Christian Endeavour
Society was formed, officers appointed,
and a little upstairs room set apart for
a prayer room.

But "a city set on a liill cannot be
hid," and it was soon noised abroad that
Ramabai was making all the girls Chris-
tians. Then arose a storm.

From time to time Kamabai had en-
countered difficulties from her Brahmin
friends. In Bombay a " jNlanaging Com-
mittee" had been appointed, who aimed
to make the Sadan a strictly Hindu

home, and imposed full observance of
caste restrictions, the effect of which
was to shut Ramabai and other Christian
teachers out from certain parts of the
dwelling. No pupil was free to attend
any sort of Christian service, but any
might worship at Hindu temples. This
being decidedly against the strict neu-
trality enjoined by the American Com-
mittee, an appeal was made, and Ramabai
was instructed to resume the management
herself.

In an interview published in a Madras
paper concerning the conversions just
named, Ramabai said : " When we came
to Poona, an Advisory Board was ap-
pointed to advise me with regard to
outside matters — purchase of land, build-
ing, &c. They had nothing practically
to do with the internal management of
the Sadan. This Board consisted of three
well-known Hindu gentlemen. We went
on satisfactorily for some time, but when
the number of girls attending my private
prayers rose to about twenty, the matter
was reported to them. We did nothing
in secret. My room was always open.
They asked me whether some of the girls
attended my private prayers. I replied
that they did. They then asked me to
prevent them from doing so. I told
them I could not conscientiously do
that — I could not restrict my inter-
course with the pupils. As a Christian
was at the head of the institution, the
girls must be more or less under Christian

^axm of ilamaliai's pupils hnaxm Cljriaiian.

ipfluences. The members of the Advisory
Board therefore tendered their resigna-
tion, and issued a circular-letter to the
parents and guardians of the scholars,
asking them not to send their girls to the
Sadan."

About twenty-
five of the girls
were thus with-
drawn. jMany
affecting scenes
occurred. Some
parents yielded
to the entreaties
of their daugh-
ters, and allowed
them to remain,
with the strict
promise not to
attend the prayer
meetings in
future. Some
poor girls were
carried off to cer-
tain persecution
and ill-usage. In
one or two cases
where Ramabai
knew they would
be taken away to inevitable moral ruin,
she resorted to various justifiable ex-
pedients to save them.

The escape of one girl, in which my
household had some share, was in some
of its features as sensational as that of
many an old-time negro slave. The

THE GUJERATHI LASSIE

Whose exciting history is told in this Chapter.

escape was from as real a slavery. Only
part can be told here. This, lassie was
one whom Eamabai had adopted as her
own. Her motlier, a Grujerathi widow,
was living the life of a temple woman in
Bombay (a " holy " Hindu harlot). A
prominent Hin-
du reformer in
Bombay, editor
of a newspaper,
sent the girl to
Ramabai to save
her from her mo-
ther's fate. But
when he heard
that the girls
were becoming
Christians, he
joined in the
popular outcry,
and incited the
mother, vile as
she was, to claim
her daughter.
He was only one
of many who
plainly showed
that they would
rather see Hindu

girls become harlots than Christians.

A chronic complaint, at that time
troublesome, was a reason for sending the
girl to a hospital in Bombay. This would
gain time. A message was sent also to
me asking me to visit her, and if possible
devise some way of saving her from her

5i iU'inarkabli idiridtut.

tlireatened fate. Owing to the riots then
raging in Bombay between Hindus and
Moliamnaedans, it was some days before I
could get to see her. Mrs. Man Sukh Lai,
then living in
our house, ac-
companied me,
anil visited lier
frequently
afterwards. To
her the girl
opened her
heart. She
wanted to be
sent away
where her mo-
ther could not
get at her to
ruin her. She
dreaded the
day of her dis-
charge. P"re-
quently the
mother and
some priests
were found
there at the
visiting hour.
They brought
her the Hindu
Shastras and
wanted to take

RAMABAI WITH A MISSIONARY FRIEND,

Hiss Gow, of J j mere, who donned the Indiari dress for the occasion.

her at a different hour, and at once sent
her out of the city to the care of a
missionary friend ; Eamabai being pur-
posely kept in ignorance of her where-
abouts. But
the mother
continued to
trouble Kama-
liai, claiming
now that her
il-uighter was
two years
younger than
she herself had
stated when
iirst given to
luvmabai,while
the latter be-
lieved her to
Ije of leg-al ao-e
to decide for
herself.

Renewed
torrents of
abuse were
poured out
upon Ramabai
liy the entire
native press.
She was then
consecrated up
to the point of

her Bible away from her. Day by day the
ho&pital was watched at the hour of dis-
charging patients. But, by the kindness of
the matron, we were permitted to remove

not caring for her own reputation— but
her school must not be ruined. She
came to me and said the school would
be ruined if the girl were not given up.

^amt of Eamabai's |3uptls httamt Christian.

I declined to have any hand in producing
the girl, but at Kauiabai's entreaty gave
her the name of the missionary friends
who had taken charge of her. They
finally arranged to bring her to the head
police ofiace in Bombay and let the matter
be decided there. The girl was brought,
but the mother did not keep the appoint-
ment. The Christian Police Superin-
tendent declined to give her to the
Hindus who came to represent the mother,
and she was again removed by my friends.

A subsequent attempt to gain possession
of her was at once abandoned when it
became known that the missionary in
whose house she had been staying had
baptised her ! The deed was done, she
was now a Christian, and was at once
relinquished to her fate by her mother
and the priests. Ramabai's perfidy was
again published to the world, although
the baptism, administered at the girl's
own ardent desire, took place entirely
without Eamabai's knowledge or consent.

CHAPTER VI.

n^ jKaibli? Ualb of ^inbuism.

'•Her princes within her are roaring lions; lier judges are evening wolves." — Zsph. iii. 8.

THE storm raised over the baptism
of the youno; woman mentioned
in the last chapter was fiercer
even than that of tlie previous three
months. It threatened to annihilate
the institution ; more pupils were re-
moved, and the leading Hindus of the
Bombay Presidency seemed to be de-
termined that they would never rest
until they saw the Sharada Sadan die
an ignoble death. But God gave Eama-
bai three promises at that time of great
trouble. They were as follows :

"No weapon that is formed against
thee shall prosper ; and every tongue that
shall rise against thee in judgment thou
shalt condemn." ^

" These things have I spoken unto you,
that in Me ye might have peace. In the
world ye shall have tribulation : but be
of good cheer; I have overcome the
world." =^

" Bring ye all the tithes into the store-
house . . . and prove Me now herewith,
saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open
you the windows of heaven, and pour you
out a blessing, that there shall not be
room enough to receive it." ^

^ Isaiah liv. 17. * John xvi. 33. ^ Malachi iii. 10.

These promises were a great source of
comfort and strength to Eamabai, and
have been marvellously fulfilled, as will
be seen later on.

In a report made subsequently to her
American friends, Eamabai thus suc-
cinctly explained her policy. Eeminding
them that she had all along insisted that
the institution should be unsectarian, she
said : " We give them (the pupils) all
liberty to keep their caste and customs,
and we have made all arrangements for
it. They are not prevented from praying
to their own gods, nor from wearing those
gods around their necks, if they want to ;
and some girls in my school do so, as I
used to do years ago. Do you think I
have gone against the religion of the
girls ? No, not in any way. I have not
taught the girls any religious system. If
they wanted any religious training, they
might go out of the school to the mission-
ary, or to the Hindu teacher. But I am
glad to say that some light came to them
— not from ourselves, but from God.

" I was a Christian woman, and I had a
home of my own, and a daughter for whom
I thought I must make a home. I had
made the resnlution of Joshua, 'As for

tiju MtivhU lalis of lintJuiam.

me and my house, we will serve the Lonl.'
That shall be my resolution to the end.
I let my girls do what they like ; but I
have the freedom with which Christ has
made me free : and why should I keep
my light under a bushel ? I do not
mean to do it. When I had my family
worship in my own room, not in the
school-hall, some of the girls began to
come in ; and we gave them freedom to
come, if they wanted to.

"My Hindu brethren thought it was
going too far, and that I was Christianiz-
ing those girls. They wanted me to shut
my room when I was reading the Bible
and praying. I said, ' No ; I have the
same freedom to practise Christianity
which these girls have to practise their
religion. Why should I shut the door of
my room, which I do not shut at any
other time during the twenty-four hours
of the day?' The Hindu friends were
much offended at it, and wanted to pull
our school down, and raise another school
on its ruins ; but I am glad to say that
the foundations of this school have not
been set on the sand, but on the eternal
Eock, and it stands there to this day, and
it will stand for ever and ever."

In the cold season following the events
narrated, Mrs. Judith Andrews, President
of the Executive Committee of the Ameri-
can Kamabai Association, visited India.
She spent several weeks at the Sharada
Sadan, and familiarized herself with the
work and workers. The pupils, taught

by Ramabai to be courteously attentive
to all guests, were charmed with the
gentle white-haired old lady, and bestowed
upon her the endearing appellation of
Ahjibai (grandmother^.

During the visit of Mrs. Andrews, the
school-house alluded to in Chapter iv.
was publicly dedicated, though it had
been in use for some time. The meetings
on that festive day, March 12th, 1894,
partook of the same character as those of
the dedication of the previous buildings.
JMuch sympathy was expressed by the
speakers for Ramabai in the severe trials
through which she had passed, and the hope
was voiced that she would not be again
burdened with another " Advisory Com-
mittee." And she never has been. Some
Hindu gentlemen present also expressed
their repentant sympathy, and an account
of the meeting, written at the time, says,
" God has greatly helped Ramabai and
sustained her work. Her prospects are
brighter now than they have ever been
before."

No trip to India is considered complete
without a sight of some of her ancient
palaces, temples, and tombs. As the most
noted of these are in North India, Mrs.
Andrews desired to take the usual trip to
Agra, Delhi, etc., and prevailed upon
Kamabai to accompany her. She could
not have had a better guide. Ramabai
had been there before ; and under her
auspices INIrs. Andrews saw sights that
other travellers miss — sights calculated to

,iy.',. >-//. /.../.

MISSIONARIES AND BIBLEWOMEN IN GUJERAT,

Stiirtincj to take the Gosiid into the VlUmjoi.

TARA,

//( licr native rags, as found Inj tlic irvU.

TARA,

As she left the Hharada Haelan in 1897, icitli
her Christian husband.

give a more just idea of the lives really
led by those who once peopled these
ruined marble halls.

In the grounds of what is now called
the Agra Fort are some ruined palaces of
the Moghul Emperors. Kamabai must
tell the story herself and draw the moral
as she alone knows how: "The guide
showed us the Kani's private rooms, the
gardens and grand marble V)uildings, once
occupied by the kings and queens. He
also showed us the beautiful pleasure
tower called Saman Burj. Visitors are
shown all that is beautiful there, and
they go away carrying \ ery pleasant im-
pressions of Agra with them.

" I was not satisfied with seeing the
outside beauty of those ' poems in marble,'
but wished to see the dungeons, and the
place where the unfortunate women used
to be confined and hanged at the pleasure
of the king. The guide at first denied
the existence of such places in the palace ;
but, finally — on obtaining a promise to
get a little more money for his trouble —
he consented to show the dungeons. He
opened a trap-door on one side of the
palace, let us in, and guided us about,
showing us the many small and large
undergroimd rc>oms where the queens who
had incurred the king's displeasure used
to be shut up, tortured, and starved, until
it pleased the monarch to set them free.
The guide then lighted a big torch, and
took us to the furthest end of the prison,
into a room underneath the Saman Burj,

or Jasmine Tower. The room was very
dark and octagonal, with a deep, dark pit
in the centre, and a big beam placed on
the walls right over that pit. This beam,
beautifully carved, served for hanging the
unfortunate women who once occupied
the throne of the king as his queens, but
had by some unknown cause fallen under
his displeasure, and had to suffer such a
cruel and ignoble death. Their lifeless
bodies were let down into that dark pit,
whence a stream carried them to the
waters of the Jumna, to be eaten by
crocodiles. Thus the poor, miserable
wives of the Moghul emperors suffered
torture and death in that dark hell-pit
under the pleasure-gallery, while their
cruel masters and rivals sang songs,
enjoyed life, and made merry over their
grave in the beautifully decorated, grand,
Saman Burj. I think but little of those
lovely places, but always remember seeing
that dark room, and compare it with
similar places of torture which exist in
many sacred towers of India. If the
walls of that horrible room had the power
of speech, oh, what stories of human
cruelty and misery would they tell to-
day!

" I beg of my Western sisters not to
be satisfied with looking on the outside
beauty of the grand philosophies, and not
to be charmed with hearing the long
and interesting discourses of our educated
men; but to open the trap-doors of the
great monuments of ancient Hindu in-

^\n ^avhU Halls of Hintiuism.

tellect, and enter into the dark cellars,
where they will see the real workings of
the philosophies which they admire so
much. Let our Western friends come to
India, and live right among us. Let them
frequently go to the hundreds of sacred
places where countless pilgrims throng
yearly. Let them go round Jagannath
Puri, Benares, Gaya, Allahabad, Muttra,
Brindrahan, Dwarka, Pandharpur, Udipi,
Tirpatty, and such other sacred cities,
the strongholds of Hinduism and seats of
sacred learning, where the Mahatmas and
Sadhus dwell, and where the ' sublime '
philosophies are daily taught and devoutly
followed. There are thousands of priests
and men learned in sacred lore, who are
the spiritual rulers and guides of our
peopile. They neglect and oppress the
widows, and devour widows' houses. I
have gone to many of the so-called sacred
places, lived among the people, and seen
enough of those learned philosophers and
possessors of superior Hindu spirituality,
who oppress the widows, and trample the
poor, ignorant, low-caste people under
their heels. They have deprived the
widows of their birthright to enjoy pure
life and lawful happiness. They send out
hundreds of emissaries to look for young
widows, and bring them by hundreds and
thousands to the sacred cities to rob them
of their money and their virtue. They
entice the poor, ignorant women to leave
their own liomes to live in the Kshetras,
i.e., holy places, and tlien, after robbing

them of their belongings, tempt them to
yield to their unholy desires. They shut
the young helpless widows into their large
Mathas (monasteries), sell and hire them
out to wicked men so long as they can
get money ; and, when the poor miserable
slaves are no longer pleasing to their
cruel masters, they turn them out in the
street to beg their livelihood, to suffer
the horrible consequences of sin, to carry
the burden of shame, and finally to die
the death worse than that of a starved
street dog ! The so-called sacred places
— those veritable hells on earth — have be-
come the graveyards of countless widows
and orphans.

"Thousands upon thousands of young
widows and innocent children are suffer-
ing untold misery and dying helpless
every year throughout this land ; but not
a philosopher or Mahatma has come out
boldly to champion their cause and to help
them. The teachers of false philosophies
and lifeless spiritualities will do no good
to our people. Nothing has been done
by them to protect the fatherless and
judge the widow. If anything has been
done by anybody at all, it has been by
those people who have come under the
direct influence of Christianity. Edu-
cation and philosophies are powerless
before the caste rules, ancient customs,
and priestcraft. That is why our edu-
cated men and our learned Sadhus are
so indifferent toward tlieir own brothers
and sisters. The educated men and

\yv^

laitr autr %iiUv Jarta.

learned priests do not like to move
about. They don't want to take the
trouble to go about to see how dread-
fully the widows have to suffer, and how
many thousands of lives are destroyed by
their priestly brethren. They mourn
over a few women who have the courage
to declare themselves as free women,
and to follow their conscience ; but they
say nothing of the thousands who die
every year or lead shameful lives. I
earnestly beg the women of America and
England to come to India and live in our
sacred cities, not living in European and
American fashion, but living like the
poor beggar-women, going in and out of
their dirty huts,» hearing the stories of
their miserable lives, and seeing the fruits
of the sublime philosophies. Let not my
Western sisters be charmed by the books
and poems they read. There are many
hard and bitter facts which we have to
accept and feel. All is not poetry with
us. The prose we have to read in our
own lives is very hard. It cannot be
understood by our learned brothers and
comfortable sisters of the West."

The iniquitous traffic in widows alluded
to here by Ramabai opens the door to a
subject in connection with Hinduism, the
knowledge of which has been a sore bur-
den on Ramabai's heart, and has forced
from her many tears and groans on behalf
of its victims. Some twelve months or
more after this tour with Mrs. Andrews,
Ramabai set off' on a visit to Brindaban,

a sacred city about forty miles from Agra,
to see what she could do to rescue some
of the miserable victims of priestcraft.
She disguised herself as a poor pilgrim
and took a mean lodging in the city,
going in and out among the women,
heard their stories of cruel wrong, and
tried to plan some way of escape for
them. She found an organized method
of entrap[»ing them. The agents of the
rich priests who own this city of sacred
temples, go about the country and by
inquiry find where the rich young widows
live. They enter into conversation with
them, and persuade them of the merits
of pilgrimage to expiate the sins which
have caused their widowhood. They tell i
them they will go direct to heaven if '
they will live at these sacred places and
serve the priests and Sadhus and worship
Krishna. They are courteously received
on arrival, then subtle temptations are
laid to deprive them of their money and
jewels, and when these are gone their
virtue follows. Brindaban is largely de-
voted to the deity Krishna, whose vile
and immoral character is rejoiced in by
his followers. If these poor women are
unwilling to live immoral lives, they
are told that it is no sin to do so in
these sacred precincts, which are specially
favoured by Krishna. Ramabai found
hundreds of widows here, mostly from
Bengal. She planned for the escape of
six or seven of these women ; but her
plans were frustrated, and she returned

fljc JJtarbb Halls of Hinbuism.

sick with the mental depression, the moral
debasement, and tlie actually foetid con-
ditions of life which she underwent in
her efforts to save some of these perishing
ones.

The dark features of Hinduism thus
portrayed, not only infest the "sacred"
cities, but spread like a miasma into
every region of Hindu life. Eamabai
computes that ten per cent, of the women
and girls who have come into her hands
during the twelve years of her ex-
perience have been sinned against by
heartless men.

In her efforts to help widows, Eamabai

has been frequently asked to shelter de-
serted wives. Childless women are con-
stantly being driven from their husbands'
homes by a more favoured rival. Many
of these have come into Eamabai's hands,
and in some cases she has been successful
in obtaining for them a divorce. Per-
secuted wives, too, have fled to her for
help and shelter. Some of these have
needed protection from husbands who
were " going about to kill them " ; and I
have known Eamabai have two or three
such in hiding at one time from the
rage of those who should have been their
natural protectors.

CHAPTER VII.

fllans for tin? Future; llamabai's .spiritual (Bx\ser'una%.

" She consideretli a field aud buyeth it : with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.'

(Proverbs xxxi. IG.)

WHEN Pandita Eamabai arranged
with lier friends in America to
support the Sharada Sad an for
ten years, she confidently expected that
rat the end of that time the Hindus would
I have become so convinced of the benefits
I of education for women that they would
willingly pay for it. But, as the years
went on, it was evident that this prospect
ibecame no nearer realization. Eamabai's
mind was exercised about the future
support of the school — how could it
be brought about ? After considerable
tliought and prayer, she conceived the
plan of purchasing a piece of land in
the country, and planting it with fruit
trees, the produce of which should yield
a fair income in the course of a few years.
Acting upon the principle that " If two
of you shall agree on earth as touching
anything that they shall ask, it shall be
done for them of My Father which is in
heaven," Ramabai and Soonderbai joined
in prayer that if the thought was of the
Lord, He would send the money to
purchase sucli a fruit-farm. Th(>v then

began to look out for answers. Ramabai
mentioned the plan to several of her
friends both in India and in America.
jNIoney given to be used at her discretion
was placed to this fund ; it gradually grew.
In 1894, two years after they had begun
to pray, the money was in hand, and the
purchase of the farm an accomplished
fact.

A suitable piece of ground was found
to he for sale at Kliedgaon, close to a
railway-station on the recently-opened
Southern Ma rat ha Railway, about forty
miles south of Poona. Ramabai planted
a portion of the land with hundreds of
young orange, lime, and mango trees. A
fine well was dug, and a vegetable garden
made, which in a few months supplied
most of the vegetables used by the school.
The remainder of the hundred acres were,
by degrees, cleared of the jungle-wood, by
which they were covered, and planted
with various useful crops; leaving only
one very rocky portion, of which the
Government took a part in making a new
road.

plaits for the Jutiiri.

There was a charm about life at the
Sharada Sadan that always captivated
me. I learned more about the ways
and thoughts of genuine Indian life by
a few days with Ramabai than in months
and years of ordinary European experience
in Bombay.

When therefore I?nmabai asked me to
spend the New Year holidays of 1895
with her, I was very glad to be free to
accept the invitation. The Sharada Sadan
was " Liberty Hall " for guests. They
could either have their meals sent to
their rooms, or join the family. I usually
preferred the latter. When breakfast or
dinner was ready, Eamabai herself would
come to escort me to the refectory. This
was a long, shed-like building, with a
verandah in front, on which we left our
shoes. There was no furniture, save a
row of stools along each wall. I call
them stools for want of a better name ;
they were simply boards about one foot
by two feet, raised about two inches from
the ground. These were the seats. I
was placed next to the hostess, who
commenced by pouring water over her
hands and mine. She then inspected
the brass vessels which were placed in
front of us, and usually rinsed out the
shining brass plates.

Then the girls who had been cooking
came in and deposited quickly a small
mound of rice on each plate ; another
followed with a pot of ghee (clarified
butter) and poured a little on the rice;

another served us with two kinds of curry,
made of lentils or peas, in small brass
basins. Others followed with hot chap-
patties (unleavened bread), then vege-
tables of several kinds, all cut small and
fried with herbs and pepper. In addition
to this, the ordinary fare, Kamabai always
served her guests with fruit, cake, and
milk. I enjoyed the food, and succeeded
fairly well in my endeavour to eat it in
the same fashion as my Indian sisters,
without the aid of fork, knife, or spoon.

On the visit of which I am writing, I
spent several pleasant days, the last
being New Year's Day. All the Chris-
tian girls who understood English
attended the Watch-night Service with
Soonderbai and Manorama, while Kama-
bai conducted a service of her own at
home in Marathi for the other Christian
girls. All were up bright and early on
New Year's morning in anticipation of
a happy day. Eamabai informed me
that we were invited to breakfast with
one of the Christian teachers of the
Sadan who lived with her family in the
city, but that she was going on a round
of New Year visits first and I could
accompany her.

The dumnie, a heavy covered wagon,
drawn by two fine white bulls, came
round about 8 a.m., and we started ofif.
Manorama and some others of the chil-
dren were included in the party of six.
In the front of tlie wagon and beneath
the seats were piled huge baskets of

^ llounb 0f lli'lu lli'ar Hisits.

sweetmeats, from which I partly guessed
the nature of the visits we were about
to pay. We first ahgbted at the Anglo-
Indian Children's Home, a work of faith,
founded by the late Miss Dawliy, which
cares for destitute children of European
and Eurasian j^arentage. As we waited
the appearance of Mrs. Hutchings, the
devoted successor of Miss Dawliy, I
related to Kamabai the peculiar history
of one of the children in that institution.
"I wish to support a child here," said
Ramabai ; " I will support that very
girl." And from that day that dear
child has found a kind friend in Rama-
bai. Her holidays are spent with
Ramabai; and when I last met her she
was looking forward to taking up some
post of usefulness in connection with the
work in years to come.

One basket of sweetmeats was left
here, and I fancied also a more substan-
tial gift, by the happy and grateful-
looking faces we left behind us. The
Government poor-house was our next
destination. This covered a considerable
extent of ground, and here we saw
maimed, halt, blind, and lepers. Rama-
bai went through all the compounds, and
herself gave a large ball of sweetmeat
to each inmate, while the respectful
salutation of "Salaam, Bai," sounded
gratefully on all hands. Indian sweet-
meats are a food as well as a luxury—
this was a peculiarly nourishing kin^i,
made of lentils, butter, and sugar.

"Poor things, they have no pleasures,"
said Ramabai.

Our next visit was to the lunatic
asylum. The distribution here was as-
sisted by two of the keepers. We saw
sad sights here indeed, and some that
were comical. One man, a Mahommedan,
looked very fiercely at me, and ordered
me (in Hindustani) to go back to my
country, saying that I had only come
there because I could not get enough
to eat in my own land.

Gratitude thei-e was none. The poor
creatures snatched the sweetmeat and
cried out for more. Ramabai persevered
in overseeing the distribution. She dared
not leave it to the officers of the place,
lest any should lose their share. On
leaving, she remarked to me that it was
evident that a large proportion were there
through opium and ganga (hemp-drug) —
their appearance showed this.

The breakfast prepared for us at the
teacher's house was very elaborate.
Plaint ain leaves were spread for plates.
A merry party of about twenty sat down
to eat the repast, which was strictly
vegetarian. One very delicious dish so
closely resembled custard that one could
scarcely believe it was made without
eggs ; but I was assured it was a com-
bination of rice and cocoanut.

The great event of the day was to
be a Brahmin dinner given by an aunt
of Ramabai, a Hindu, who was visiting
her. Tile old lady took great pleasure

^pians for tljf yutur^.

and pride in cooking this dinner and
serving it up, though she would by no
means have defiled her caste by sitting
down with us — Christian outcasts — to eat
it. Two missionary families and several
Indian Christians joined the dinner party.
The festivities ended with a surprise
party of Soonderbai's planning, held in
the large schoolroom. A monster bran
tub furnished presents for pupils, teachers,
and visitors. The little ones had toys
and picture books ; the pupils had each
the material for a choli (a short bodice
that they all wear), with knitting-needles,
crochet-hooks, wool, etc., etc. The party
dispersed after a happy day, and Rama-
bai and myself took the night train to
Bombay.

The battle had been decided as to
whether Hinduism or Christianity should
have the ascendancy in the Sharada Sadan.
As Eamabai's Christian life strengthened
and deepened, she became more in-
dependent of even the opinions of her
quondam Brahmin friends. At the same
time, she kept strictly to her covenant of
giving an entirely unsectarian education,
with freedom to her pupils to observe
all their Hindu customs. The Brahmin
community gradually came to the con-
clusion to let Eamabai alone. They
accepted the fact among themselves that
she had gone irrevocably from them ; and
that all the benefits of her work which
they had looked upon to shed lustre on
their ancient religion were quite lost to

them. A rival institution, or what was
intended to be a rival institution, to the
Sharada Sadan, was started as a board-
ing establishment in connection with the
Poona Girls' High School ; but though it
existed for a few years, it never flourished
greatly. SOme of the girls who had been
removed from the Sadan were placed in
this institution, but more than one finally
retiu'ned to Kamabai.

As time went on, the light of Christi-
anity shone more and more brightly in
the Sharada Sadan. The Christian En-
deavour Meetings prospered. Morning
and evening prayers were held in a larger
room, and attended by the majority of
the pupils. Eamabai's little daughter,
Manorama, whose heart had been early
opened to divine influences, took a
leading share in carrying on the work
among the girls. Those who were in-
terested in Christianity, and not forbidden
by their guardians, attended Church and
Sunday-school outside, as well as the
ministrations of a Poona missionary, who
held meetings in the prayer-room once
a week.

The natural outcome of all this teach-
ing was the creation among those girls
who had received Christ of a desire for
baptism. They wanted to become Chris-
tians in fact and deed, as well as in heart.
Eamabai, however, was in favour of their
remaining unbaptized — at least, while
pupils in the Sharada Sadan. The school,
she affirmed, was not for Christian girls,

A HUNGRY CROWD

JFaitiny for th". chdlij ilLtributiun of rice.

' 3^t^KKt|^A

RESCUED FAMINE CHILDREN
At Dinner in the ConqioUivl of the ."ihnradd Hadnn, I'ovna,

mn ^t0iXT 0f a littk mabi.

but for Hindus ; and, consequently, she
qould not encourage the proposed bap-
tisms. Several of the girls, however, made
their own arrangements with the mis-
sionary whose classes they attended, and
were baptized in the Methodist Church
at Poona. Kamabai let things take their
course ; but, after the baptisms, she told
these girls that she could no longer
accept them as pupils of the Sharada
Sadan. As they all declared their readi-
ness to work for their living, work was
found for them. One or two became
teachers in other schools ; some were
employed as teachers in the primary de-
partment of the Sadan ; and others, unfit
for teaching, accepted posts as servants
of the establishment, cheerfully under-
taking menial work as unto the Lord.
Thus the difficulty was bridged over, and
time was allowed for continuing their
studies in part to those who wished it.

Among the pupils thus baptized was
one particularly nice and good girl, whose
early history illustrates the condition and
hardship of the little widow more than
many.

This poor little child, married at the
age of five to a man forty years her senior,
became a widow at six. She was left in
charge of her husband's brother, a Brah-
Dpin innkeeper in a country district, a
day's journey by rail from Poona. As
the child grew up, she became a regular
little slave, beaten and lialf-starved. She
was employed constantly in going back-

wards and forwards to a well a quarter ol
a mile away to fetch water, which she
carried on her hips and her head in great
copper vessels. She was very miserable
and her treatment was no secret to the
people around.

One day Ramahai received a letter
informing her of this poor child's forlorn
condition, and of the location of the well
where she might so often be found. One
of Ramabai's helpers visited the place in
disguise, gained the confidence of the
child, and arranged to take her away by
the night train. The girl was then about
eleven years old, and witli her shaven head
was easily disguised as a jMahomedan boy.
Before the train started she was missed,
and her people were in pursuit of her.
They were at the station, but failed to
recognise her; and she escaped. She
bloomed out into a most lovable and
estimable girl, and was married in 1897
to a fine Christian young man.

In a little tract published in Bombay, in
1895, Ramabai told the story of her own
spiritual experiences. She said : " When
I turned my attention to searching for the
truth in the Hindu and Christian religions,
and comparing them with each other, I
found Christianity to be the better of the
two, and accepted it. I was duly baptized
in the Church of England. I believed the
Apostles' Creed, and all the essential
doctrines of Christianity. My mind was
at rest; and I trusted in God, believed on
Christ, and prayed in His name. I did

flans for tlje Jutuw.

not adhere to any special sect, nor do I
now. It was enough for me to be called
a Christian, on the ground of my belief in
Christ as the Saviour of mankind. I
used to pray in a general way, and had
never known that my special need was —
' Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and
thou shall he savecV Salvation, I thought,
was something to be got in the future.
That is how the future tense in the above
text is abused by the converts, especially
the intellectual converts of the present
day in this country. I had many doubts
and many difficulties in the matter of
belief. So many sects, so many opinions,
so much want of spirituality and much
shallow talk in the name of religion. All
these troubled me very much, and I
began to see much the same in the picture
of Christianity as I have been accus-
tomed to see in that of the Hindu
religion. But all this time I was conscious
that God was leading me ; and I deter-
mined not to take the opinion of men as
my ground of belief, and went on reading
the Bible only and trusted in God's
mercy.

" Some years ago I was brought to the
conviction that mine was only an in-
tellectual belief — a belief in which there
^vas no life. It looked for salvation in
the future after death ; and consequently
my soul had not ' passed from death unto
life.' God showed me how very dangerous
my position was, and what a wretched and
lost sinner I was; and how necessary it

was for me to obtain salvation in the
present, and not in some future time.
I repented long ; I became very restless
and almost ill, and passed many sleepless
nights. The Holy Spirit so got hold of
me that I could not rest until I found
salvation then and there. So I prayed
earnestly to God to pardon my sins for the
sake of Jesus Christ, and let me realize
that I had really got salvation through
Him. I believed God's promise, and took
Him at His word ; and when I had done
this, my burden rolled away, and I real-
ized that I was forgiven and was freed
from the power of sin. ' The Spirit itself
beareth witness with our spirit that we
are the children of God.' ^ I became very
happy after that. There was not a shadow
of doubt as to my having obtained sal-
vation through Jesus Clirist. 'But as
many as received Him [a person, not a
thing ; not a religion, but a living person],
to thcTii gave He potuer to become the sons
of God.' ^ ' And this is life eternal, that
they might know Thee, the only true God,
and Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent.' '
In the Old Testament God is not revealed
as Father, but as the Creator, the Mighty
God, the Judge, the Jehovah. It was left
to Jesus in the New Testament to reveal
the Father. Men talk about God, but
they cannot know Him except the Son
reveal Him.* These things are hid from
the wise and prudent, but God has

^ rtoiTi. viii. 16.
^ John xvii. 3.

2 John i. 12.
* Matt. xi. 27.

ilamabai's .spiritual Cripi^runrcs.

revealed them unto babes.' That is why
He says, ' Except ye be converted, and
become as little children^ ye shall not
enter into the kingdom of heaven.' ^ ' He
that believeth on the Son hath everlasting
life.' ' I knew I had everlasting life, i.e.,
knew God ; and the Spirit was sent into
my heart, crying ' Abba, Father.' *
( ^ " Last year I happened to read the Life
of Amanda Smith. She had been a slave
in America, and had been freed. When
she was converted, she shouted and said
she had been delivered out of bondage
twice — once out of slavery, and once from
the slavery of sin. And I have a right to
praise God too ; for I have been first de-
livered from the slavery of man's opinions,
from the fear of man which holds so many
of my dear people, and a second time from
the bondage of sin. As I read further in
this book, where she gives an account of
her spiritual experience, I felt my need
of the abiding presence of the Holy Spirit
in me.

" I prayed earnestly to God to show me
the way, and to remove all the hindrances
that came in the way of my receiving this
great blessing. 1 read in the papers that
Mr. Gelson Gregson was to hold some
special mission services in Bombay. I
longed to go, but could not easily leave
my school and be away from Poona. I did
not know anything about Mr. Gregson,
but the desire to hear him preach became

' Matt. xi. -2').
' John iii. 30.

' Matt, xviii. 3.
* Rom. viii. 15.

very strong. I left the matter in G.id's
hands, and rested quietly. One morning
I received an urgent letter from a girl
whose mother was supposed to be in a
dying condition, and wlio wanted very
much to see me. The girl urged upou
me very much to start at once and come
to Bombay. I did so, recognising in this
call the special providence of God which
was taking me to Bombay in answer to
my prayer.

" I heard Mr. Gregson preach his first
sermon from the text ' I am crucified
with Christ ' ' ; which impressed me very
much. I stayed three days, and attended
the services. The subject was exactly
what I wanted and needed to know. In
April at the Lanouli camp meeting I
heard Mr. Gregson preach again. He
preached as one who had received and
was filled with the Holy Spirit and knew
the deep things of God. I then opened
my heart to a friend, and told her of my
intense desire for the gift of the Holy
Spirit ; and we together sought a conver-
sation with Mr. Gregson. I asked him
many questions, which he satisfactorily
i;nswered in the words of Scripture. We
prayed then that I might receive the
Holy Spirit ; but it was not until the
evening of that day that I felt conscious
of His presence in me. Since then I
have received much blessing, and am ever
grateful to God for showing me the way
of this blessed life."

' Gal. ii. 20.

CHAPTER VIII.

Asking Clr^at ©Ijings of (Sotr.

"Open thy mouth wide and I will fill it." — Psalm Ixxxi. 10.

THE camp-meeting- is a feature of
American Christian life, which
transplants to India remarkably
well. Near the summit of the Western
Ghauts, eighty miles from Bombay, nest-
ling in the bosom of the mountains, are
the Lanouli woods, an ideal spot for such
a gathering. The situation, amid the
grandest natural scenery, irresistibly
recalls the thought tliat, " as the moun-
tains are round about Jerusalem [Lanouli],
so the Lord is round about His people."
The grove of closely planted trees, which
forms a perfect shelter from the noonday
Sim, is situated on the breezy hill-side,
sufficiently near to the vilhige and station
of Lanouli to be convenient, yet far
enough away to be secluded ; and forms an
equally welcome chmge in the hot season
from the moist and enervating heat of
Bombay, or the sultry, hot winds of the
Deccan.

To organize here a cnmp-meeting as
an annual Easter gathering, was the
inception of an earnest IMethodist preacher,
known as "Camp-meeting Oshorn" in his

own laud. This servant of God, Rev.
W. B. Osborn, was located for a time in
charge of English work in Bombay, some
fifteen to twenty years ago. Its organiza-
tion was an inspiration, and it has formed
a brightly anticipated rallying point for
earnest warm-hearted Christians of many
denominations. Eev. W. B. Osborn
returned to America soon after; but the
meeting continued, conducted by various
qualified brethren, none of whom have
been more appreciated as a leader than
the present presiding Elder of the Poena
Methodist Cliurch, Rev. Dennis Osborne,
akin in name and spirit, though not
otherwise related to its founder.

To attend this camp-meeting, whole
families migrated from Poona and Bom-
bay, and in fewer numbers from other
parts of Western India, till the grove was
peopled with fifty to sixty tents. Mission-
aries and people in business or Govern-
ment employ, pastors, teachers, and Bible-
women, Brahmin and Parsee converts to
Christianity, and those of other castes — till
it seemed like a foretaste of the time when

^tt iJuMan (llamp-ilta'tin0.

all kindreds, and peoples, and tongues,
shall join in the glad heavenly chorus of
praise to the Great Redeemer. Many
Christian schools sent contingents of boys
and girls old enough to enjoy and profit
by such an occasion ; and frequently, not
the least blessed and enduring work was
done among the young people.

Few who have spent an Easter Sunday
with this assembly would be likely to for-
get it. Awakened at dawn by the sweet
voices of a band of young Christians, sing-
ing Easter hymns and anthems, seven
o'clock found an assembly gathered in the
large tent for a short and bright Sunday-
school session in which young and old
joined. At nine a prayer meeting; at
ten breakfast, served with simplicity in
another large tent. At eleven a love feast
(including a communion service), when
hearty, bright, and cheering testimonies
were given in English, Marathi, Gujarathi,
Hindustani, and occasionally in others of
India's many tongues ; and so on through-
out the day. In the large tent something
was always going on. When the English
attenders were resting, the Indian Chris-
tians were having a turn in their ver-
naculars. The large tent was wonderfully
expansive, and after sundown became a
roof only; for no walls would have held
the Sunday evening congregation, aug-
mented as it was by large contingents of
I eii-ers from the railway settlement,
which fcrms the European quarter of the
Lanouli villnoe.

The camp-meeting of 189G was the
last. By Easter of 1897 India was in the
grip of the terrible plague and famine;
and it was not felt wise or right to hold
it. Three years have passed, and the hand
of God is still heavy in judgment : when it
shall be lifted we may confidently expect
that the voice of the assembled multitude
will again make the woods of Lanouli
vocal with songs of praise to their risen
and reigning Lord.

In 1896 one of the chief speakers was
a native evangelist, who was so full of
zeal and holy joy that it was difficult for
him to leave off preaching and expound-
ing long enough to eat ! If he was not
in the rostrum addressing a congregation,
he would be surrounded by a private
group of Indian Christians, and either in
English or through an interpreter was
continually making known the way to be
a joyful Christian to an eager group of
listeners.

Ramabai was present at this camp-meet-
ing, with a fine group of Christian girls
and young women. Several with note-
book and pencil showed that they under-
stood and appreciated the opportunity
here afforded them. An experience befel
Ramabai here, indicating in a remarkable
degree how the Lord was preparing her
for a greater work : this must be told,
however, in her own words. She says :

" This camp-meeting proved to be an
occasion of special joy to me, as I was
accompanied by fifteen of my own girls

Asking 05nat OTIjings of (Bah,

who were believers in the Lord Jesus, and
had confessed Him before the public as
their Saviour. Amid the troubles and
trials that faced me at that time, I re-
joiced much to think that the Lord had
criven me fifteen immortal souls whom I
could call my spiritual children. One
day, early in the morning, I went out to a
quiet place in the woods, where I saw the
sun rising in all its glory. Then I thought
of the Sun of Eighteousness, and wished
much that my people who were sitting in
darkness should be willing to open their
eyes and hearts and see Him rise in all
His heavenly glory. At that time my
heart was full of joy and peace, and 1
offered thanks to the Heavenly Father for
having given me fifteen children ; and I
was by the Spirit led to pray that the
Lord would be so gracious as to square
the number of my spiritual children,
increasing the number to two hundred
and twenty-five, before the next camp-
meeting takes place. Every circum-
stance was against the very thought.
For, in the first place, no more than sixty
or sixty-five girls at the most could be
admitted in my school. Then the num-
ber of my school-girls was but forty-
nine, and some of them were to leave
during the summer holidays. Things were
going very much against my school, and
I did not know where to get even fifty
girls for my institution. My mind began
to be doubtful, and I asked the Lord if it
were advisable for me to venture to pray

such a prayer, and if it were even possible
for me to have so many girls in my school.
I then prayed to God to give me a clear
word about it, and He graciously gave
me the following words : ' Behold, I
am the Lord, the Grod of all flesh ; is
there anything too hard for Me ? ' ^
This proved to be a rebuke to my un-
believing soul, as well as an assurance of
the great things which Grod meant to do
for me. I noted those words in my note-
book; put down the date on which I
claimed two hundred and twenty-five
souls from God on the strength of this
assurance ; and waited for Him to fulfil
His promise in His own good time."

It will thus be seen that Eamabai's
spiritual experience was continually
deepening and widening. She had asked
great things of God ; and having received
great answers, was hungering and thirst-
ing for more. Her increase of faith and
enjoyment of the Holy Spirit's leadings,
following on a path of obedience, enabled
her to testify from a full cu]3 to others.
She longed that her own people who had
professed the name of Christ, the mem-
bers of the Indian Christian Churches,
should be led out into a fuller life of
service for their Lord. To a few who
were privileged with her confidence, and
especially to one sweet missionary woman '^
who had been used of God in leading her
into some of these deeper experiences,

^ Jer. xxxii. 27.
^ The late Mrs. Jennie Fuller.

^ Jfulkr %iic of ^frbia.

Eamabai poured forth her longings. This
friend expressed her belief that God would
have Eamabai give her school over into
the hands of others, and herself do the
work of an evangelist, proclaiming to
Indian Christians all over the land from
the fulness of her own experience what
God was willing to do for those who
would trust Him fully ; and pressing upon
tliem their responsibility in carrying the
Gospel to the millions of heathen all
around. This friend seemed to apprehend
that God had some purpose for Eamabai
beyond the training of the fifty girls at
the Sharada Sadan. He had ; but it was
not to be in the relinquishment of her
former work, but in its fuller and more
complete development.

Eamabai became quite willing to follow
in any path of service of this kind, if the
Lord should lead. She began to prepare
herself for a life of itinerant hardship.
She felt she shoidd relinquish her salary,
and trust God for her own needs. Towards
the autumn of that year, 1896, she says,
alluding to her camp-meeting experience:
" Six months passed away from that
time, and our work went on as usual.
There was no increase in the number of
my pupils ; on the contrary, the number
■went down to forty-one, and those
Christian girls whom I had told in April
that God was going to square their num-
ber before the next camp-meeting, were
perhaps beginning to doubt in their mind
as to whether I had not been carried

away by my imagination, and not inspired
by the Spirit, to have prayed such a prayer
whose fulfilment seemed to be next to im-
possible. I knew nothing of the famine
in Central India, nor that I could get any
girls from that part of the country. In
October I heard of the terrible famine in
the Central Provinces, and received my I
call from God to go there and rescue some]
of the young widows who were starving tp
death. It was not until the last week of
December that I had the courage to obey
the call. There were many obstacles. I
was doubtful whether I could get any of
the kind of girl-widows whom I could
admit into my school. The next chief
difficulty was the want of place to shelter
the girls, and of money to maintain them,
even if they were to be had. So I did not
venture at first to step out of Poona ; but
my conscience began to trouble me for
not having obeyed the call at once, and I
was obliged to leave my comfortable
nest and go."

Human reason might well have thought
there was cause for this delay and hesita-
tion on Eamabai's part. Many would
have said, '• I will go if God sends me the
money." But God's way with Eamabai
was to make the obedience the test of
blessing. There had been at that time
some difficulty with regard to the remit-
tances from America wliich supported the
school, some miscarriage of money, delay
or decrease in amount, which had necessi-
tated diminished expenditure ; and when

Asking (^r^at f Ijings pf (Bntr.

the Lord thus called Ramabai to go to the
Central Provinces and rescue three hun-
dred girls, she tells that she had but a
few rupees in hand. She asked where she
should get the money ; but felt that God
would have her go on, and the money
would come. God had provided the
money, but He was testing her faith. As
soon as it was known that Ramabai had

started in search of widows left destitute
by the famine, one of His servants in
Bombay undertook the expense of their
transit to Poona. Another called and left
a hundred rupees at the Sharada Sadan
for current expenditure ; and from one
source and another money flowed in as
needed for the work to which Ramabai
was thus committed.

CHAPTER IX.

^h^ ^tnnxm of 1S97, antr tin ^t^tm of .^iarliing Mittotus.

" By terrible things in righteousness wilt Thou answer us, O Lord God of our salvation.

(Psalm Ixv. 5.)

RAMABAI'S doubts as to whether
any widows of the kind suitable
for her school (i.e., high-caste
widows) could be obtained in the famine
districts, were soon set at rest when she
reached the spot. She was accompanied
by a sensible, motherly, Indian Christian
Biblewoman ; and as Ramabai went from
place to place, gathering up the girls, she
sent them in parties of from ten to twenty
at a time by this Biblewoman to Poona.

Perhaps the most difficult part of the
work was the reception and feeding of
these poor creatures after their arrival.
It was heroically faced by Eamabai's
helpers in Poona, led by Soonderbai
Powar, and ably seconded by the Chris-
tian girls of the Sharada Sadan, who
devoted themselves to the cleansing and
civilizing of these poor victims of star-
vation. All were miserably dirty ; many
diseased — most were suffering from sore
heads, sore mouths, and other complaints
caused by starvation ; many were mere
skeletons, and all clamouring for food,
which to have given them in sufficient

quantity to appease their hunger would
have caused their death. The older
women and girls were the most trying,
and a few ran away. Added to tJiis, two
or three rebellious spirits among the
former pupils became troublesome, and
several attempts were made to burn
down the premises, without any clue
being found to the perpetrators of the
mischief; thus the position of affairs
may be better imagined than described.
Satan found an opportunity for harassing;
but the Lord, who is over all, over-ruled
wonderfully, and preserved from the
threatened danger.

Among those suspected of incendiarism
was a Rajput woman, who had been acting
as servant to Ramabai. From this woman
Ramabai had discovered, to her horror,
that the practice of infanticide was still
prevalent in Rajputana to an alarming
extent. She recounted to Ramabai as
many as eight or ten cases in her own
family, in which girl-children had been
exposed or strangled to their death, to
avoid the expense of their maintenance

Wht Hfisrw^ of ^tarljin0 Mi&olua.

and marriage. A few weeks before
starting for the famine field Eamabai
had mentioned this to the Convention
of the Woman's Christian Temperance
Union, gathered at Poona, and had
spoken of the terrible hardness of heart
the cruel custom of infanticide engen-
dered in those who practised it. She
was in despair, she said, of influencing
this Kajput woman, nothing good seemed
to touch her. It was natural, therefore,
that she should be suspected of these
attempts to burn the home that had
sheltered her. There was, however, no
proof; but after she and one or two
others had been removed the trouble
ceased.

When some sixty girls and women had
been gathered, Eamabai returned to
Poona for a few days. While there she
wrote a rapid sketch of the way she had
been led to enter this work of saving
widows, prefacing it with the story of her
own early experiences of starvation in
1877 (as related in Chapter i.). She sent
the story to the Bombay Guardian, a
Christian weekly newspaper published in
Bombay, then under the editorial care of
my husband and myself. In this narrative,
Eamabai told expressly of the fearful
moral danger to which young girls were
exposed in relief camps and poor-houses,
and of the agents of evil who were abroad
seeking to lure them to destruction.

It was a pathetic story, but would make
my pages too long to quote it in full.

The concluding portion, however, will help
to elucidate this part of my narrative, and
must be given here. Eamabai said: "My
sympathies are excited by the needs of
young girl-widows especially at this time.
To let them go to the relief camps and
poor-houses, or allow them to wander in
the streets and on the highways means
their eternal destruction.

" Ever since I have seen these girls in
the famine districts — some fallen into the
hands of wicked people ; some ruined for
life and turned out by their cruel masters
owing to bad diseases, to die a miserable
death in a hopeless, helpless manner;
some being treated in the hospitals, only
to be taken back into the pits of sin, there
to await a cruel death ; some bearing the
burdens of sin, utterly lost to the sense of
sliame and humanity — hell has become a
horrible reality to me, and my heart is
bleeding^ for those daughters of fond
parents who have died leaving them
orphans. Who with a mother's heart and
a sister's love can rest without doing
everything in her power to save at least a
few of the girls who can yet be saved from
the hands of the evil ones ?

" The Father, who is a very present help
in trouble, has enabled me to get sixty
widows, forty-seven of whom will go to
school to study, and others will work.
To go to work to get these widows, to
fetch them here from Central India, and
to feed and to clothe them, is an expensive
business. Harder still is the work of

^ ^P^i'fj^^i^ c^torg.

civilizing them and teacliinp; them the
habits of cleanliness. Some are little
better than brute beasts. The filthy
habits they have acquired during this
period of famine have become second
nature with them. It will take a long
time to civilize and teach them. We can
do all things in the power of the Lord.
The Lord has put it into my mind to save
three hundred girls out of the fjimine
districts, and I shall go to work in His
name. The funds sent to me by my
friends in America are barely enough to
feed and educate fifty girls ; and several
people are asking me how I am going to
support all these girls, who may come
from Central India. Besides their food
and clothing, new dormitories and dining
rooms must be built. Our present school-
house is not large enough to hold more
than one himdred girls at the most. And
how are these emergencies to be met ?

" I do not know ; but the Lord knows
•what I need. I can say with the psalm-
ist— ' I am poor and needy, yet the Lord
thinketh upon me '; and He has promised
that 'Ye shall eat in plenty and be
satisfied, and praise the name of the Lord
your God that hath dealt wondrously with
you; and My people shall never be
ashamed.' My girls and I are quite
ready to forego all our comforts, give up
luxuries, and live as plainly as we can.
We shall be quite contented to have only
one meal of common coarse food daily, if
necessary ; and so long as we have a little

room or a seed of grain left in this house,
we shall try and help our sisters who are
starving. It seems a sin to live in this
good house, and eat plenty of good food,
and be warmly clothed, while thousands
of our fellow-creatures are dying of hunger,
and are without shelter. If all of us do
our part faithfully, God is faithful to
fulfil His promises, and will send us the
help we need at this time."

This narrative touched many hearts. It
was reprinted from the Bombay Guar-
dian^ and edition after edition disposed of.
Missionaries and others bought it in
quantities to send home to their friends
in England and America. They declared
it to be the most keen description of
famine suffering which had yet been
depicted, and it proved to be no small
factor in rousing sympathy for India's
sufferings in the hearts of Western Chris-
tians.

After Eamabai had launched the story
and had attended to necessary business in
Poona, she started again to the Central
Provinces for more girls, determined not
to rest till her three hundred were saved.
Within a fortnight, however, she was
called back to Poona by telegraph.
Fresh trouble had arisen. The bubonic
plague, which had been raging in Bombay
for several months, had spread to Poona.
The authorities, at their wits' end to cope
with it, were introducing stringent mea-
sures here and there. A strict system of
inspection of dwellings was instituted.

^ht ^tum 0f .^tariiing Mitrotos.

The magistrate sent eighteen of the
famine victims who were sutfering from
some ailment or other to the hospital
for observation, and ordered that the
number of the permanent inmates of the
Sharada Sadan should not be increased.
This caused the stoppage of the buildings
which had been commenced on the
Sharada Sadan compound with a view to
housing the fresh pupils.

Here was a dilemma ! But Eamabai
found a way out. She hired a dozen
tents, and sent the whole establishment
out into the open country twenty miles
away. Soonderbai went in charge of the
girls, and Ramabai remained herself in
Poona for awhile. This could only be a
temporary arrangement. What was to
follow ?

In this difficulty Ramabai's thoughts

reverted to her farm at Khedgaon and the

piece of rocky waste land there. She

cabled to America for permission to

utilize this as a temporary home for the

famine-stricken — for the farm lands had

been duly placed in trust under the same

board of trustees which held the Sharada

Sadan property. Permission was received

in three days, and the famine girls were

transferred from the tents to grass huts

erected on this waste land at the farm.

A large barn was speedily in course of

erection, with a view to forming some

sort of shelter in the coming rainy season.

When the rains began in June, all the

intelligent girls of school age who had

sufficiently recovered from the effects of
starvation were transferred to a house at
Poona, near enough to the Sadan for
school purposes, and their education com-
menced. The remainder, including older
women up to forty years of age, were con-
tinued at Khedgaon under the best shelter
possible.

A few very small children, some almost
babies, had come in from the famine dis-
tricts with the older girls and women.
Eamabai appealed to the Sharada Sadan
pupils for volunteer mothers. The appeal
was eagerly responded to, and very tenderly
these poor little starved waifs were cared
for by those to whom the responsibility
was entrusted. One very bright Christian
girl of fourteen picked out the most for-
lorn-looking baby of all. When rallied
by her companions for choosing such a
monkey-faced child, Subhodra replied,
" Not to take a pretty and attractive
child, but to take a wretched and un-
attractive one is love." This dear girl,
it was truly remarked at the time, had
learnt well one of the divinest of lessons.

Subhodra herself, when a baby, had been
thrown out into the road to perish by a
heartless Hindu father. She was taken
in and cared for by a neighbour, and at
his death came with his young widow to
the Sharada Sadan. She was then a
bright little girl of seven or eight, brim-
ming over with fun and mischief. She
proved a clever child, made good progress
with her studies, and, best of all, became

{Bob-gtbijn CbiltJnn.

a true Christian. ITer relatives, however,
kept track of her, and began to agitate
for her to be returned to them, in order
that they might get her married. One of
her brothers actually came to Poona to
fetch her; but time had flown faster than
he had reckoned on, and when he saw his
sister he found she had passed the age
prior to which the Brahmins of his caste
consider it a duty to give their girls in
marriage. To
Ramabai's
great joy he
was therefore
obliged to re-
turn without
the fulfilment
of his object,
and Subhodra
is still an
affectionate
and useful lit-
tle daughter
to Ramabai.

The work
of rescue
went on all through those months of 1897
till the autumn harvest ended the famine.
Gungabai, Eamabai's faithful Bible-
woman, visited poor-houses, relief camps,
and mission stations, in the affected
districts, and altogether gathered from
five to six hundred starving women and
children. After all the girls and women
really suitable for the Sharada Sadan had
been selected, Ramabai passed on the

A DEAD WOMAN.

One of Ihousands iclio have died from starvation in the jungle.

remainder to various mission orphanages.
She found herself with just the three
hundred God had told her to take.

Ramabai greatly rejoiced in all these as
her own God-given children, whom, free
from the interference of bigoted parents or
guardians, she could instruct in the way
of life. All the available spiritual help
she could obtain was pressed into the ser-
vice of teaching the Word of God to these

as they re-
turned to
health and
strength.
Ramabai be-
lieved that
God was go-
ing to answer
her prayer
and give her
that measure
of spiritual
blessing,
which she
had, as it
were, seen in

vision, at the Lanouli camp-meeting.
The Spirit of God worked with the means
used. Ten months after she started out
in faith to the famine districts she was
able to report that ninety of these girls
had given themselves to God, and were
showing signs of a real change of heart
by serving and helping other girls, by
their self-forget fulness and love one
toward another. As these girls professed

^\jt lltsaxt of ^tarbtng tEibclus.

salvation, they were taken to the river
by Ramabai, and baptized by a missionary
in the name of the Triune God.

Miss Parsons, of the Poona and India
Village Mission, who spent a month the
same autumn with Ramabai, helping to
care for and instruct these rescued fam-
ine victims, thus records her experiences
among them :

"The stories connected with some of
these dear women and children are sad in
the extreme. A young Brahmin woman
about eighteen years of age has found a
home here with her little boy ten months
old. I asked her why she came. ' Oh,'
said she, ' I got up one morning and
found my husband had deserted me. I
saw nothing more of him after that.'
Praise the Lord ! since she has come she
has accepted Christ. Another knew very
little of what love or home-life meant.
Married young, and not being strong, she
suffered a great deal. One day her hus-
band said, 'I've had enough of this; you're
never able to cook my rice. You can go.'
The poor girl was too ill to move, how-
ever ; so he moved— deserted her, and has
been unheard of since. After some weeks
she was able to walk a little, so went to
her mother's home; but was there told
that they had nothing for her to eat, and
so she must go; and while wandering
about seeking food was picked up by
Ramabai. Another was one of two wives •
and being the younger of the two, she
fared badly. The husband used to get

the other wife to beat her ; so much so, [
that she ran away and was eventually ■
brought here, where she is very happy !
and contented, and will, when won for \
Christ, be a very useful woman. She is
very quick, bright, and capable ; and it is
a great pleasure to have anything to do
with her.

" Another is a little widow about nine
or ten years of age. Her husband died
when she was five, and she has had any-
thing but a happy life since. Indeed,
such a thing as love or happiness is not
in the province of a great many of these
dear little people ; and one just longs to
be a comfort and joy to them. This little ,
widow is very quick — learns the hymns
very quickly ; remembers the Bible stories
wonderfully ; and best of all, has accepted
Christ as her Saviour. It is very touching
to hear this dear child pray. She rises
early, and she always prays aloud : you
can hear her pouring out her little heart
to the Lord, and thanking Him for giving
her such friends as the Christians. One
day, after I had been praying with some
of the sick girls, a voice from near-by was
heard — ' 0 bai (sister), do come and pray
for me. Last night my hand was so bad
I could get no sleep. I sat up, and three
times asked Jesus to give me sleep ; but
I can't understand it a bit. He didn't
let me sleep at all. Do ask Him to give
me sleep to-night ; I am so tired.' I
prayed for sleep for her, and next morning
her beaming face told the tale. ' Well,

^ lUal, ^impk JJranrr.

Anandi!' said I, 'did Jesus hear prayer
last night?' ' Yes 1 ' she said, 'and I
slept all night.'

" I think the most beautiful work of
grace I have ever seen in any child's
heart was the following. One evening
we were late in going to have prayers
with the girls. When we got to the door,
we found dear little Anandi had gathered
all the women and children together, and
was praying aloud with them, and they
repeating the prayer after her. How the
heart of our Father God must have re-
joiced as He heard such requests and
thanksgiving as ascended from that room!
' Our kind heavenly Father, we do thank
You for bringing us here, giving us such
dear friends — and especially for Eamabai.
Oh, our kind Father, those of us who
love You, wc want You to keep our hearts
very clean ; and those who don't love You,
quickly clean their hearts, and keep them

clean by Your Holy Spirit dwelling in
them. Oh, our kind Father, take c-are of
all of us in this Home and the Poona Home
to-night; bless all who look after us, and
abundantly bless Kamabai and Soonderbai,
who take such care of us. Now Father,
we thank You for Jesus, and for what
Jesus promises to do for us. Take care
of us to-night, and forgive us wherein we
have given You pain to-day, for Jesus'
sake. Amen.'

" I praise the Lord for the privilege of
hearing such a real, simple prayer ; and I
am sure our home people will join me in
offering a big praise note for ' what God
hath wrought ' in less than a year in some
hearts out here.

" Truly He is ' able to do exceeding
abundantly above all that we ask or
think.' ' To Him be the glory."

1 Epb. iii. 20.

CHAPTER X.

" The Lord thy God : He it is that doth go with thee." — Deut. xxxi. 6,

THE hand of the Lord has been
remarkably seen in raising up
helpers for Eamabai in the great
work He has put into her hands. The
hearty way in which the older girls, even
some of the Hindus, threw themselves
into the work of caring for the famine
girls, was delightful and inspiring. The
conversion and baptism of groups of the
new girls from time to time had a reflex
influence for good upon the older ones.
Many who had been halting between two
opinions came out boldly for Christ, and
a holy enthusiasm seemed to pervade the
whole establishment.

After the girls had been gathered at
Khedgaon, and all their material wants
provided for, a vision opened out to
Eamabai of what such a settlement
might mean to the country around, from
an evangelistic point of view. Here, she
thought, is a great missionary opportunity
for some fully qualified and consecrated
Christian woman to come and live among
these girls, lead them to the Saviour, and
train them in the Word of God, so that
they shall be fitted to carry the Gospel to

all the region round about, where no
missionary work has ever been carried
on. Eamabai spoke of the need and the
opportunity to several whom she thought
suitable, but none responded. She and
her immediate helpers made it a matter
of constant prayer; and God Himself
called the one He had chosen for the
post.

Miss Minnie F. Abrams came to India
in 1887 as a missionary of the Methodist
Episcopal Church. In Bombay she had
varied experience, both of visiting the
women and caring for children. In 1895
she relinquished the care of the girls'
boarding school in Bombay to devote
herself to the work of village evangeliza-
tion. She became a deaconess of that
Church, and was duly set apart for this
work. Miss Abrams aimed to reach the
women in those villages, where the Gospel
had already been preached to the men.
With a tent, and two or three Bible-
women, she itinerated from place to
place in the villages around Poena, com-
ing into the city each year for the rainy
season. She came into Poona as usual at

cQ .:

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^ ^prdal (Commission.

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this period in 1807, ami employed herself
in caring for a number of older famine
widows, some of whom were sent her by
Ramahai. When tlie em! of tlie rains
came in October, she was planning to
leave this woric in other hands, and was
making arrangements for anotlier camp-
ing season.

One morning at this time she awakened
earlier than usnal, and as she lay with the
duties of the day in her mind, a voice
seemed to pay to her, " Go to Khedgaon."
The impression deepened on her mind,
and she went. Ramabai was absent, but
Miss Abrams surveyed the place, and saw
the girls and women gathered there. She
returned to Poona in the evening wonder-
ing why she had been sent there. She
said as much to the Bible-woman who
had accompanied her. The woman
replied : " Who knows ? Perhaps one of
those tracts you gave at the station had a
message for some one I ''

The following morning, Sunday, Miss
Abrams was again awakened early. In
telUng the experience of this hour, she
said reverently that it was as if the Lord
Himself came and commissioned her to go
to Khedgaon and take up the office of
spiritual teacher to that tiock of girls and
women. The holy influence of that hour
followed her all day. The sermon at the
morning meeting was singularly appro-
priate, and confirmed to lier the com-
mission she had received.

The next day she went to tlie Sliarada
I

Sadan, and found that Ramabai had rrone
on her final visit to the Central Provinces
on rescue business. Miss Abrams opened
her heart to Soonderbai Powar, and as
she told of what she believed the Lord
had called her to, the tears ran down
Soonderbai's cheeks and she said : " This
is what Ramabai and I have for months
been praying for." Wlien Ramabai re-
turned, her practical question was, "When
can you come?" In a fortnight all dif-
ficulties had been overcome — Miss
Abrams was established at Mukti, and
commencing the work which has grown
so remarkably under her care.

I must mention here the case of Rama-
liai's clerk, or chief steward. He was a
Ihahmin of good education, a member of
the sect of reformed Hindus known as
Bn.hmos. He had been in Ramabai's
employ for several years. At one time,
when the tide of Brahmin disfavour was
setting strongly against Ramabai, this
man acted against her interests in a way
for which most employers would have
dismissed him. Ramabai, however, re-
tained his services, though obliged to
withdraw her most confidential work
from his hands. But, as the years went
on, Ramabai's faithful life and teaching
led him to see that there must be some-
thing in the religion she professed. Then
tlie Lord dealt with him. Hi- wife be-
came an early victim of the plague at
Poona. And when a large group of
famine girls were baptized in 1897, more

Jitukti'— the MyJ ^Mmmi at filj^bgaon.

than making up the iiiimher promised to
Eamabai at the Lanouli camp-meeting,
Mr. Gadre came out also as a believer in
Christ, and was baptized with his younger
children.

Miss Abrams contributed a graphic
account, to an Indian paper, of some of
the scenes that occurred in connection
with the early conversion of the girls in
the first weeks of her residence at Mukti.
She spoke of a great and general awaken-
ing that had taken place in both the
Poona and Mukti Homes. This revival
prevailed not only among those who had
been rescued from famine, but reached
to a goodly number of the widows who
were previously in the Sharada Sadan.
It w^as an outcome of special services held
by Rev. W. W. Bruere — first, for ten days
in the Poona Home, when one hundred
and sixteen women and child-widows
were baptized. He •then went on to
Khedgaon ; and what happened there we
must give in Miss Abrams' own words :

"The women had been prepared for
these services by constant daily religious
teaching, ever since they entered the
Home. The older widows, and conse-
quently those most hardened in sin, are
living at the farm in Khedgaon. But
the Spirit of God is able to transform
even hardened sinners. He was present
in great power from the beginning of the
service. At the close of three days' ser-
vices when Mr. Bruere was called away,
sixty-seven had been converted. Tlie

meetings were continued ; Mr. Bruere
returned ; and as the crowning event,
November loth, the baptismal service took
place.

"It was a rare sio-ht when seventeen
bullock carts, crowded with seven and
eight women in each, started out for the
Bheema River, five and a half miles
distant from the farm. Songs of joy
arose one after another, as they slowly
went along, methinks mingling with
the joy around the throne when sinners
are converted.

" A tent was pitched on the bank of the
river, which served as a dressing room.
A short service was held by Rev. W. W.
Bruere, after which the baptisms took
place. Pandita Ramabai's secretary,
Krishnabai,^ and the writer, stood in the
water and helped the candidates to enter
and return to the shore. One of the
school-mistresses on the shore called out
the names of those to be baptized. It
was very interesting to hear each one
repeat with the minister, ' In the Name
of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Ghost.' The happy faces and fre-
quent expressions of praise showed that
the Spirit teaches His children alike the
world over, for these women had never
come in contact with many Christians,
i-evivals, or baptismal services. One
hundred and eight women and girls, and

^ One of the former converted widows who
had been acting as Biblewoman with Miss
Abrams for some time previously.

.^pirifual Brbrlopmrnts.

one boy of twelve years of age, were
baptized.

" When Pandita was taking the names
of those who were asking for baptism,
a little girl of six years tugged away
at my dress and said, ' Bai, bai,
mere nam likna (' Bai, bai, write my
name'). This dear little child, who
prays much and gives evidence that she
really loves Jesus, was carried out into
the water. Mr. Bruere took her into
his arms and put her under the water.
Jesus took such in His arms and blessed
them.

" I should like to tell of how the Spirit
led many to confess their sins of stealing,
lying, quarrelling, and fighting ; and many
with tears confessed their idolatry. One
womnn arose to speak. She covered her
eyes, and began to pray in the Marathi
language, but soon broke forth in her own
language (Hindustani) with the confession
of her sins, enumerating them one after
another. Her whole frame was convulsed
with weeping as she pleaded the merits of
Christ's sufferings on her beliidf. Then
she broke forth into loud praises to Jesus,
for salvation, the forgiveness . of sin. It
was a solemn yet a joyous time.

" When Pandita was bringing widows
from the Central Provinces, a deaf and
dumb woman insisted on coming. Pandita
refused to bring her. She came and sat
in the train. They made her understand
that she could not learn in school, hence
could not be taken. She told them by

signs that she would grind, cook, wash
clothes, scrub, &c. She literally refused to
leave the train ; and at the last minute
Pandita laughed and bought her a ticket.
She has been true to her word and works
cheerfully.

" She always preserves a reverent atti-
tude during worship. When the women
were asking Pandita for baptism, she
persisted in having her name written.
Pandita tried to put her aside, but again
she was persistent. One day she arose to
testify. We all felt Gfod's presence as
she stood in silent eloquence before God.
The girls said aloud, 'Mookkie knows
God as well as we.' On two occasions she
tried to speak and made a low sound.
She received baptism with the others.
While the services were going on, one day
she brought two children to the altar,
closed their eyes, and then closed her own
in prayer. All who have contributed
toward this famine work will rejoice at
this bountiful harvest of souls."

Ramabai rejoiced so at these spiritual
developments that she said she could
not wait for another camp-meeting at
Lanouli, she must have one of her own
at Khedgaon. Accordingly she issued
invitations; and, in response, a goodly
number of missionaries and Indian Chris-
tians gathered in December, 1897, to
praise the Lord with her for all His
goodness. Those who attended it spoke
of it as a most flivoured time. It in-
cluded a dedication service of the new

iltuldi "— tijij llrlu .^fttknunt at liljftigaou.

settlement to God, by tlie name oi MuJdi,^
i.e., Salvation, The large barn served
for the meetings, and tlie visitors camped
out in grass hnts. By this time arrange-
ments had been made for a permanent
settlement, and ground was laid out for
a large building. Ramabai gratefully
dedicated the whole to the Lord, and
called the place "JMukti" in reference to
Isaiah Ix. 18:
"Thou shalt
call thy walls
salvation and
thy gates
praise."
' The ten
years for
which the
R a m a b a i
circles in
America had
pledged their
help was to
expire in
March, 1898,
and Ram-
abai's An)erican friends had been urging
her to come over and help to devise some
way for conserving the interest in the
work and reconstructing the Association,
in view of its great recent developments.

Ramabai had hitherto seen no possibility

of leaving her post, but had gone on in

faith, feeling that if the Lord wanted her

in America He would Himself open the

^ Trouounced Mooktie.

A RUINED HOME.

Pa>t of the woodwork has been sold for fuel in order
to obtain the 2Jrice of a meal.

way. Now, INIiss Abrams' capable help
being provided ; Mr. Gadre's conversion
more than doubling his usefulness to the
institutions; with Soonderbai Powar in
full charge of the Sharada Sadan — Ramabai
felt clear to go.

My husband and I spent a day at
Khedgaon early in January, 1898. We
happened on the very day Ramabai was

leaving for
her visit to
America, a
day of fare-
wells. It was
affecting to
see how gen-
uine was the
grief of large
numbers of
these newly-
rescued girls
and women,
when at the
close of the
afternoon
meeting in
the barn they came up one at a time
to receive a farewell embrace from the
only real friend many of them had ever
known. It was a long day ; the train
did not leave till near midnight. About
a hundred of the older girls were permitted
to remain when the others retired for the
night; and with the teachers and a few
visitors from Poona, all sat out in the
bright moonlight and pleasant cool air of

Kr-lnsittng Amnira.

that January evening while Ramaliai gave
her farewell counsels. Her progress to
the station, about a quarter of a mile
distant, reminded me of nothing so much
as a swarm of ants carrying a cherished
trophy up the wall, a frequent scene in
India. There were girls in front of
Ramabai, behind her and at each side, all
pressing to get as near as they could, till
Ramabai seemed to be literally carried
along in the midst of the crowd. How
gladly they would all have accompanied
her to America !

It had long been a cherished plan in
Ramabai's mind to send some of her
specially bright pupils of suitable charac-
ter to America for farther education and
training, with a view to their helping her
more effectively in the future of the
Sharada Sadan, or of carrying on similar
work among the vast and needy masses in
other parts of India. From her own
experiences she believed that such training
would be of immense benefit to them in
cultivating independence and individu-
ality of character. Acting on this belief,
she sent three girls to America in 1897,
and took two others with her on this
journey ; her own daughter, who had been
in England for eighteen months, joined
her mother on the way, and went on to
America with her.

Manorama's education had already been
generously provided for. In one of her
recent Reports, Ramabai tells how this
came about. She says: "When I was

about to start from the United States
to undertake the work for Hindu widows
a Christian lady, quite unknown to me
came to see me in Philadelpliia. She
was led by God to help mc in some
way. I did not know when I first met
her what a faithful friend God had
raised up for me in her. After hearing
a little of my story and what I needed,
the lady before finishing her call placed
one hundred dollars in my hand and
promised to pay all expenses of my
daughter's education. This incident
occurred nearly twelve years ago. I am
very glad to mention gratefully that this
good lady has kept her promise, and has
been paying my daughter's expenses for
the last eleven years. God be praised for
such help, and for the helper! But for
this help I would not have been able to
throw myself heart and soul into this
work. God has freed my mind from one
other t-are. I was seeking for a Christian
home for my daughter while she stays in
America for her education. God has
given me another great friend in Mrs.
Emma S. Roberts, Principal of the A. M.
Chesbrough Seminary, North Chili, N.Y.
She not only cares for my daughter, but
has undertaken to support and educate
five young widows, former pupils of the
Sharada Sadan, who were sent to America
for education."

These girls are making good progress.
Tungabai, who had studied Sanskrit,
Marathi, and English at home, is reading

iitukti" — tlj£ ^ein ^Mnnmt at filjftigaon.

Greek and Latin, and will take up the
sciences. Her thought is to establish a
school similar to the Sadan in the southern
part of India, and thus will the influence
of the Sharada Sadan continue to spread.
These girls, having tasted the bitterness
of child-widowhood, could tell many a sad
story. Chumpabai, for example, had been
made to fast so long that one day hunger
overcame fear and prudence; sheattempted
to help herself to a little of the porridge
cooking over the fire: her sister-in-law,
discovering it, tried to pour the scalding
hot porridge down her throat. Yessoobai
exclaims again and again, "How can you
be so kind to a poor widow?" Nermad-
dabai was a widow at five ; and, when
first an inmate of the Sadan, she would
shrink and crouch with fear before any one
approaching her. Now she is friendly
with all, and is making fine progress in
her studies. Jewoobai, who scarcely
understood a word of English when she
left India, now speaks it quite well, writes
a clear, bold hand, is quick to see and to
learn, desires to know how to do every-
thing, and promises to be an invaluable
helper to Kamabai.

Ramabai received a warm welcome on
her arrival in America. At the Annual
Meeting of the Eamabai Association the
Executive Committee disbanded; but a
new Committee was formed, including a
number of the old workers, with a desir-
able infusion of new friends. Mrs. Judith
Andrews, the President of the Executive

Committee, continued in office with all
her former zeal and energy. Before dis-
banding, the former Committee put it
upon record that those who withdrew from
the work did so from no lack of con-
fidence or interest in Eamabai, nor from
any lack of faith in the future. They
testified to the harmonious way in which
the work had been carried on, and wished
Ramabai a hearty God-speed. The new
Committee stood pledged to work on the
same lines, to support the Sharada Sadan
as before, with no time limit, and to
encourage Ramabai in the God -given
developments of the work at Mukti.

Ramabai's address to the Annual Meet-
ing was throughout a happy inspiration.
Here are a few extracts :

" You have heard the reports of the
school which you started in India nine
years ago. . . . You see the first scholar
of that school standing before you; she
has learned a lesson there — it is to thank
and praise God. For this work has not
been done by human strength alone.
The Eternal God is behind it, and at
the foundation of it ; and as there is
no end to Him, there will be no end to
His work. . .

" In these nine years we have erected
a monument — a monument to the saints.
Let us call this All Saints' Day ! It
is that to me ; and I thank God for
the saints He has given me for my
friends. There are those dear departed
friends wdio are no more in this world ;

^lamalmi's Abbm

but I do not mourn for them as those
who have no hope. This Sharada Sadan
which stands in Poona is a monument
to honour tlieir memory, and also to
the honour of those saints wlio live
here in the Church militant — you, all
of you, who are working for us every-
where in this country, and many who
are working for us all over the world.

"Now, what shall be the future t)f
the school? There is nothing to regret;
and you have a property of sixty thou-
sand dollars, and two schools with three
hundred and eighty girls in them.
What shall we do with these schools
and this property? The first thing
I have to tell you in this connection is
that Eamabai is dead. The person who
went in your stead is dead and gone.
What will you do with the property?
The first scholar of the school suggests
that a new Association be formed. God
gave me this morning a name for it,
if you will adopt it. That is, the Faith,
Hope, and liOve Association for the
Emancipation of the High-caste Child-
widows of India ; for nothing but faith
and hope and love will redeem India.
Do not concentrate your interest in one
person, for that person will die and be
gone, as many have gone before ; but
this Association must not die. It must be
perpetually alive ; anci how will.it live but
through faith, hope, and love ? Let this
new Association be organized right here, to
go on working in the same old way.

" We want twenty thousand dollars a
year. When I came here first, I only
asked for five thousand ; and you guve
me six thousand a year. Now my
hopes and expectations are enlarged, and
my ambition for my girls and for the
elevation of the women of India prompts
me to ask for great things. I believe,
if we had not a single cent in hand,
God would shower from heaven the funds
we want. Last year God sent thirty
thousand dollars. He is as rich to-day ;
and He will send us twenty thousand
dollars — not for one year, or two, or
ten, but so long as India and its needs
exist.

"We are not to take thought for to-
morrow. We are only to do His work
faithfully. 'Seek ye first the kingdom
of God and His righteousness, and all
these things shall be added unto you.'

"You tell me that you are very busy,
and your interests are divided ; and some
of you say that you are very old and
cannot work any longer. You have
many poor people to help, and many
widows and deserted wives, I suppose ;
but our needs are greater. Are you too
busy to pray for us? No, liecause you
are members of that royal priest liood
whose privilege and right it is to pray
for us. Why can you not work for us?
Yes, you can work for us, and you will.
And what about old age?

"Just about the time I started from
India I was getting very tired, and

iltuhti"— tlje ll^tn .^eltUmnit at 1filKtr0aon.

wishing to rush out from the school and
give up the work. I thought I too was
getting too old, and could not stand it.
But the Father told me to go and read
the Bible ; and in Luke's Gospel I found
the story of a prophetess who is called
Anna — Mrs. Anna, the proplietess, let
us call her — and the Bible says she
worked for eighty-four years, and did
not give up her good work in the temple
service all that time. And Grod said to
me, 'If you live to be that age, you

must work till then.' And I bring that
same message to you, my dear friends ;
and it is a glorious thing for you to
look for."

In disbanding, the former officers of
the Ramabai Association transferred the
property and all its interests to Eamabai
personally. She remained in America
a sufficient time to see the New Board
legally constituted and the property
duly vested in the hands of responsible
trustees.

CHAPTER XL
Jltafrrial ^rogrrss an& .spiritual ^bUancrmcut.

As sorrowful, yet alway rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing,
and yet possessing all things." — '2 Cur. vi. 10.

TESTS and trials came both to
Eamabai and her helpers dur-
ing the time of her absence in
America. When she started from
Miikti, the foundations were rising
for a large new building, erected in the
form of a square, providing dormitories
for these three hundred girls and women,
with rooms at each corner for officers
and matrons. There was some money
in hand, but not sufficient to maintain
the establishment and complete the
building during the expected months
of Ramabai's absence. The stone was
quarried on the premises, and the whole
work was under the care of a qualified
Bengali Christian overseer. Miss Abrams
undertook to be treasurer ; and Eamabai
left the work in faith that God would
provide means as needed. Miss Abrams
was instructed to pay fill bills as money
came in, but to stop the work if funds ran
low, and on no account to go into debt.
For a considerable time funds did run
low, and on two occasions building was
stopped for a week or two; but there
was always food. Still, it was a time of

trial to Miss Abrams and to Soonderbai ;
and the latter experienced added diffi-
culties on account of the recrudescence
of the plague in Poona.

This condition of affairs was reported
to Ramabai; and reaching her at a time
when she was quite worn out with the
fatigue of travel, and the strain of re-
arrangement of the American Association,
it tried her far more than if she had
been at home to face the difficulty
herself. For two years without respite
her mind and body had borne the con-
tinuous effort of caring for these needy
ones, sustained only by her brave spirit
and firm ftiith in God. There was no
rest for her when she got to America.
It was her earnest desire to meet the
wishes of her friends for her to speak
here, there, and everywhere; the dis-
tances being often so great as to require
travelling by night, followed, at times,
by two addresses during the day. To
tliis was added her intense anxiety about
her poor children at home. She bore
it bravely between lierself and God.

"But at last there came a day," says

iJlat^rial ^r00waa antr spiritual ^^banam^nt.

a friend in America, " when all this was
too much for the overtaxed body and
mind; and she lay upon her bed, crying
to God in her anguish, and feeling that
she must go home to suffer and to die,
if need be, with her dear ones there.
During that day of pain and terrible
fear she poured out her heart to one
who loved her. The story was told to
two of her best and most generous
friends ; and on her return to Boston,
a few evenings afterward, the entire sum
necessary to relieve, for a time, the needs
of her children and her own anxiety,
was placed in her hands. When she
'realized the meaning of it all, her weary,
anxious face became illumined with joy
and with grateful love, as she exclaimed :
* Thank God and those dear friends I
Oh, I shall sleep to-night as I have not
slept for weeks thinking of my poor
hungry children I ' "

Eamabai's longing for home deejiened.
The times for successful work in America
grew more unfavourable. The receipt
of a telegram from London, requesting
her immediate presence, decided her.
She sailed from New York early in
July, with the hope that an English
Association might be formed to work
in harmony with the American Asso-
ciation. In this she waa disappointed.
No plans had been formed, and none
could be formed during the summer.
She hastened her departure from Eng-
land, after visiting the Keswick Con-

vention. In August she was with her
own again, and none too soon. For
able, and faithful, and devoted as were
those having charge of the schools, they
were not Kamabai. On the farm hun-
dreds of fruit-trees had died through
the neglect of the gardener, and Eamabai
found herself obliged to discharge him,
and take up the management of the
farm herself.

In spite of delays the buildings were
sufficiently near to completion for a
dedication service to be held in Sep-
tember; and again a large number of
missionaries and Christian friends from
Poona, Bombay, and elsewhere, gathered
at Mukti, to unite with Ramabai in
praising God for progress in material
blessings, and for spiritual advancement
in the pupils. Soonderbai and the whole
of the Poona establishment were present.

The picture of the building which we
reproduce here was taken at this time.
The inscription over the large gateway is
" Praise the Lord," in Marathi, in
pursuance of Eamabai's determination to
call her walls " Salvation," and her gates
" Praise."

After Eamabai came out into the ful-
ness of spiritual blessing, as related in
Chapter VII., her views as to the power
of God expanded. She translated the
Scriptures literally. She believed that as
the Lord made the human body, it was
His province to heal it ; that the Spirit
would so " quicken " her " mortal body "

THE GRINDING-ROOM AT MUKTI.

All the (jrai)i used for brcwl is ijroiind hij xcoiiicn in these prim Uivc hand-mills, identieid irllh

those mentioned in Malt, xrriv. 41.

DAIRY WORK AT MUKTI.
Indian and American rhurns arr shon-n. A reri/ bright deaf and dumb uoman is an active

heljier in this d'partnicnt.

^ am mn f ortr tljat f^aktlj tija."

as to remove ailments and keep it in
health. Taking Him at His word she
commenced praying for the healing of an
internal disorder for which she had for
years been consulting physicians at home
and abroad to no purpose. Soonderbai
joined with her in prayer for half-an-
hour daily, and in the course of two
months she was able to tell of her own
complete healing, and that of two of her
pupils from serious maLJ!ies. >She thus
tested God and proved that the prayer of
faith did heal the sick. Continuous
miracles of this sort have been wrought
since in connection with this work of faith
and love.

There is so much scepticism on this
subject, even among Christians, that I
do not feel called upon to relate details
here ; but if Eamabai would write her
own experiences on the line of Divine
healing, I believe it would be a more
remarkable story than any I have told in
these pages. I must, however, relate one
cu'cumstance here of the continuous over-
ruling of God's power with regard to the
pupils at the Sharada Sadan at the time
of the plague in Poona. I referred in
Cliapter IX. to the arbitrary action of the
magistrate in carrying off to the Plague
Observation Camp eighteen girls suffering
from various complaints left by the famine.
These were all returned to the Sharada
Sadan in the course of a few days, except
one who was reported to have plague.
When Kamabai enquired for her, she was

told she had died. A few weeks later a
party of the girls was being brought into
Poona by rail, when a little one who was
suffering with slight fever was taken at
the railway inspection office and sent off
to this Observation Camp. Ramabui
insisted on accompanying the child, a
mere baby, and spent some days there
with her, until she was released.

While there Eamabai began to make
particular enquiries about the girl who
was reported dead. She never had been
able to believe that the girl had the
plague ; and now discovered that she had
not, and that she was not dead, but had
been detained by one of the native officials
of this camp, and was living with him in
sin. The poor girl's joy on seeing Eam-
abai proved that she had not been a
willing partner in the transaction. She
was again rescued, and sent to a kind
missionary friend, but died after a few
months.

This experience proved to Eamabai
what unsafe places these plague observa-
tion camps were for young girls, and yet
to these places families suspected of hav-
ing cases of plague were constantly being
sent by the authorities. Should a case of
plague occur at the Sharada Sadan, there
would be no appeal against the removal
of all ; and fever cases would also be taken
there singly if any were found. Eamabai
and Soonderbai made it a matter of
earnest prayer that they might be pro-
tected from plague, and from any mistakes

jEaturial ^r00r£sa anh .spiritual ^biianami^nt.

on the part of the plague inspection
parties who visited the house several
times a week. It was a generally un-
healthy season, and cases of slight fever
were common. Soonderbai has told me
of the way in which they would all gather
and pray when a case of fever occurred ;
and of how, even when five or six had
appeared unwell at once at night, the
temperature of each would be normal
when the inspection party came round
the next day. Thus God protected them,
and no further cases of removal occurred.
But it will explain the strain upon those
in charge of the work at Poona during
Eamabai's absence. Writing of Mukti
after her return from America, Eamabai
said:

" There are neither doctors nor medi-
cines found in this village ; those girls
who wish to resort to medical help in
sickness are in no way hindered from it.
They are taken to Poona, and proper
medical treatment is given them. Yet it
must be said to the glory of God that the
large majority of girls seek God's help in
their sickness. The Lord has wonderfully
protected us from the dreadful plague
and other sickness. The sun, so terribly
hot, has not hurt us, nor the cold and
rains. The girls realize that divine help
is better than human means. So when
any one among them is sick, they get
around her and begin to pray, and God
answers their prayer beyond their hope
and expectation."

From the time of the 1897 famine
there had been scarcity in the country
district around Khedgaon, though not
actual famine. Eamabai's building oper-
ations, therefore, were a great boon to
the workpeople who came from the
neighbouring villages. It has also been
a golden opportunity for giving them
the Gospel. When the building work
had to be stopped for want of funds —
and this happened after Eamabai's re-
turn, as well as while she was absent in
America — the workmen were told that
work woidd be started again when God
sent the means. Not an opportunity
was missed to thank and glorify God
for His bounteous help, and to show
how absolutely dependent we are upon
Him. Thus the heathen workmen em-
ployed on the buildings came to know
that there is a living God who hears
and answers prayer, who does not
desert His people, and who is so dif-
ferent from the lifeless gods and devils
whom they serve. The number of workmen
employed on the buildings has averaged
from eighty to one hundred and twenty.
Their usual time of labour is nine hours
every day ; but they were allowed to
work only for eight hours, and in the last
hour are called together to hear the
Gospel preached by Miss Abrams and
other missionaries. A number attend
Sunday School in connection with the
Mukti Church, and the Gospel is finding
its wa}' into some of their hearts.

^ ni'hj Ua^aar (Bstablialjrtr.

Eamabai's desire that the rescued girls
should be trained to work in these villages
was granted almost sooner than she had
dared to expect. At Christmas, 1898, Miss
Abrams gave several addresses on the
spiritual needs of India, in the endeavour
to incite a missionary spirit in the minds
of these young disciples, themselves so
recently won from heathendom. She then
told them of the Student Volunteer
Movement in the American and English
colleges, and of the numbers of students
who had pledged their lives to mission
work, as God should open the way.
When Miss Abrams suggested the for-
mation of such a mission band at Mukti,
thirty-five volunteered to be ready for
training for evangelistic work. They
agreed to meet daily at noon for an hour's
extra Bible teaching. In a few months
from that time several were regularly
employed with the other Bible-women
in visiting the villages.

When the Collector of the district (the
British magistrate) visited Khedgaon, he
'was astonished to find how strong was
Eamabai's influence for good among the
villagers. Beside the amount of work
provided for them in needy times,
Ramabai proved their benefactor in an-
other sense. The ground on the opposite
side of the road to the Mukti buildings
was owned by a liquor-dealer. This
ground came close to the buildings.
There were rumours that some one in-
tended to open a liquor-shop close by

her property. Ramabai went to the
Collector of the district and .secured a
promise from him that no licence to sell
liquor in Khedgaon should be granted
to any one. But to make herself secure
from any possible annoyance of the kind
she purchased the liquor-dealer's farm
containing seventeen acres. She then
invited the people in the surrounding
country to establish a weekly bazaar on
this roadside. They were thankful for
the opportunity to do so, as the nearest
bazaar was eight miles away. This new
bazaar is a boon to the people ; Ramabai
and her employees buy a good deal of
the produce brought for sale, and it
tends to cheapen some kinds of goods.
It also brings the people within sound
of the Gospel, which is proclaimed, both
by voice and the printed page, every
bazaar day.

In January, 1899, my husband and
I paid a farewell visit to Khedgaon
before leaving India. We found the
work going on most satisfactorily, and a
number of industries in full swing.

These industries were chiefly of an \
agricultural nature, preparing food-stuffs '
for consumption at Mukti and the Sharada
Sadan, and thus reducing materially the
expenditure of both establishments.

The dairy department provided all the
milk, butter, ghee, and dhye, for both
institutions. A gift of fifty pounds sent
to Ramabai by a lady in England, instead
of a legacy, had then recently enabled

^at^rial ^ regress antr ^piriiual ^tiiiaitatmnt.

her to enlarge this department of the
work by the purchase of more cows ; and
while in America the previous year a
wealthy American friend had given her
some American churns and other im-
proved dairy appliances, including some
very nicely contrived cans in which milk
was daily sent by rail to Poena. We
went to see the cows, a number of which
had young calves. Eamabai was then an-
ticipating the increase of this department
into a regular business of supplying dairy
produce to customers in Poona ; but the
subsequent famine made it very difficult to
maintain the cattle, and all the milk and
ghee obtainable were needed to sustain
and succour the famine victims.

The deaf and dumb woman was in
charge of the churning department, and
eagerly displayed to us the superiority of
the new cliurns over the previously em-
ployed native methods. This old method
consisted of a pole about the size of a
broom-handle, with short cross-way bars
fixed on the lower end, not unlike a
" dolly " used in some parts of England
for washing clothes. The pole is swiftly
whirled in the pot of milk till the cream
comes. Both kinds of churn are shown
in our illustration.

"Ghee " is clarified butter; and "dhye "
is a kind of cvird-cheese much used. Both
are important elements in the daily food
of non-meat-eaters in India. When
sufficient butter and ghee cannot be
obtained, a good substitute is found in a

sort of vegetable oil. This is made from
a grain called Kardi (or " Tilly " in the
Central Provinces). The grain for mak-
ing this oil was grown on the farm at
Mukti. Among the widows rescued from
the 1897 famine was one who understood
the process of oil-making. Eamabai,
prompt to seize opportunities, purchased
a second-hand oil mill, and placed her in
charge. The mill interested us very much ;
it was a clumsy looking erection, a heavy
upright beam, some cords and pulleys,
with another beam placed crosswise ; this
was attached to the yoke of a small
bullock who patiently plodded round and
round in a circle with his ej'es blinded.
A large hundie (cooking pot) stood at the
mouth of the mill, and received the oil as
it flowed. This had to undergo some pro-
cess of boiling or purifying before it was
ready for use. Several girls were em-
ployed, beside the woman in charge,
sifting and sorting the grain and prepar-
ing it for the mill. Eamabai said this
manufacture effected a great saving in
expense. •

While we were there, the woman lifted
up a full pot of oil and put it aside. We
had been admiringly watching the patient
little bullock, and just then I ventured to
pat its back. Then was a transformation
scene. The unaccustomed caress so scared
the apparently gentle little creature, that
he began kicking and plunging in every
direction. We had to beat a hasty retreat,
and send a workman to assist the woman

Inbu5trir5 in (Optration.

in disentangling the animal from the cords
of the machinery into which it had
pranced. Happily the pot of oil had just
been placed outside of his range, and no
damage of consequence was done.

A field of red peppers ready for harvest
at this time was employing a troop of
women and girls in gathering, sorting,
and drying the pods. Another detach-
ment was at work harvesting the jowari
crop — a grain used instead of wheat in
making bread.

A weaving department with about
twelve looms was under the care of a
Cliristian man, who was employed to
teach, to a selected number of young
women, the art and mystery of weaving
sarees (the length of material which grace-
fully twisted about the person forms the
dress of the Marathi women.) The pre-
paration and spinning of cotton yarn from
the raw material is an adjunct of this
industry, and employs as many in propor-
tion as the looms.

The manufacture of these hand-loom
dress-stuffs is an industry which has not
been affected to any great extent by the
modem Manchester competition. True,
the mills do put out a printed cotton
saree, but in wear and durability it is not
to be compared to the hand-loom produc-
tion, and for women's garments the hand-
loom still holds its own. It is well that
it is so ; and I for one trust the day is far
distant when this wholesome simple family
industry will be substituted in India by

the herding together of crowds of persons
in tlie unhealthy moral atmosphere of
mill life. Bombay has already its forest
of mill chimneys. The workers are chiefly
men from country districts, and the women
are the wives of working men, who are in
all sorts of employment in the city.
Frequently a man will have two wives,
one of whom works at the mill from seven
in the morning till six at night ; the other i
remammg at home to provide for the
family. Tragedies often come up in the \
police-court which reveal the sort of life led
by these unfortunate women. Contrast
this with a model settlement of Christian
weavers which we saw at Itarsi, in the
Central Provinces, in connection with the
Friends' Mission. These were hereditary
weavers who had become Christian. Their
comfortable home-life, wives and daughters
plying the spinning wheel, dyeing and
winding the yarn, the boys learning to
take their father's seat at the loom when
school days should be over, and the babies
rolling in the simshine, gave an almost
ideal picture of what industrial life should
be.

Those who would successfully solve the
problem of the industrial employment of
Indian Christians will be wise to take
into consideration the system of family
industries indigenous to the country.

While in America, Ramabai's heart was
stirred by meeting certain "Western
admirers of that Swami-ism which passes
for Hinduism in Western lands," and

iJtatiTial :|Pnjgwss anh spiritual ^blianrrmtntt.

which some foshionable circles in America
have cultivated since the Chicago Par-
liament of Religions dared to invite
paganism to ex})ound itself on equal
terms with Christianity. She realized
that the remedy for this must be more of
Christ in India and returned home filled
with the missionary spirit. A new prayer
had been put in her heart that Grod would
raise thou-
sands of evan-
gelists of
either sex,
from among
India's own
people : tliat
He would
fill them and
anoint thnu
to preach tlu^
gospel. H( r
first act afttr
her return
home was to
write and
publish a let-
ter to her friends in which she recorded
this prayer, and called upon Indian
Christians to consecrate themselves to the
Lord for this work, and upon missionaries
to devote more time and thouo-ht to
training Indian Christians in Bible
methods of evangelization.

Rev. Albert Norton, a missionary of
many years' experience, wliom Ramabai
had met in America, luid arrived at

A VICTIM OF STARVATION.
A woman carried as a dead calf would, he carried in India.

Mukti with his wife, and was helping
in outside mission work. Ramabai was
hoping to see ultimately a training home
for young men established under Mr.
Norton's care, which should be the means
in the Lord's hands of raising a band of
consecrated evangelists to work in the
Marat lii villnges.

Fifteen villages in the neighbourhood

were then
accessible to
Gospel work.
IsIy . and
Mrs. Norton
had organ-
ized Sunday
Scliools in
s o me of
(liese. Two
lUblewomen
VvL^re going
out daily
iiom Mukti
to these vil-
lages, Miss
Abrams ac-
companying them as often as her other
duties permitted.

I had the privilege of going with them
on one afternoon to a village two miles
away. I was impressed with the miser-
ably poverty-stricken aspect of the place.
It had the appearance of having been at
some time wrecked, and then patched up
with any and every kind of material that
could be got : mud and straw by choice.

ttisittng the ItiUagfs.

Some of the stone walls were high
and massive, and doorways pretentious.
Some of the "cosiest homes," if such
words could be used in such a connection,
were mud walls with thatched roofs.
These at least were in keeping-. I was
told that this village was in fair average
condition.

Seven times during the afternoon we
sat on door-steps or outside of houses, at
the invitation of the inmates, while a
little crowd gathered around to hear the
Gospel hymns and message from Miss
Abrams and the Biblewomen. All castes
were visited, high and low.

As we drove home through the moon-
light. Miss Abrams told me of some of the
responses made by the people, which I had
been unable to understand, and also of
some of her experiences in the work.
When she first visited some of the villages
in this district, she found they had never
seen a white woman before ; some were
afraid, and afterwards told her they took
her for a soldier in disguise. At one
house where the neighbour-women had
gathered to hear, one excused herself from
remaining by saying she had grain to sift
at home ; the hostess spoke up and said :
" Don't go, you can clean grain any day ;
but it is not every day you can see such
an image as this."

We left Mukti more than ever im-
pressed with the wide possibilities and

healthy developments of the work in the
luinds of Kainabai and her lieipers.

Two Cliristian women from America
were then on a visit to Mukti. These
friends helped Ramabai to give shape to
a thought that had long been with her,
for the erection of a building specially
for the care of girls who had been sinned
against by wicked men ; many of these
were sick, and it was undesirable that such
should be mixed with the others. The
younger lady took charge of a few of this
class already with Eamabai. She remained
for nearly twelve months. She nursed
several of these poor girls back to good
health, and then left to establish a res-
cue home of her own in another part of
India. The other stayed and saw the
foundations in for a new building on the
piece of ground purchased from the liquor-
dealer. She then returned to America,
and worked for some months both there
and in England, and raised half the
amount needed for this new building.

Rev. Albert Norton and his wife re-
mained with Ramabai till February, 1900,
when they removed to Dhond, ten miles
distant, having been led to undertake
famine relief work specially on the line
of earing for destitute boys, of wliorn at
the end of the following August they hml
received 560, desiring above all things to
train them for evangelists to their own
people.

CHAPTER XII.
Hisru^ lltork truring tiji Jfamint of 1900.

"The servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart." — Epii. vi. 7.

"\ T 7" HEN Eamabai was making her
V V garden at the Sharada Sadan in
years gone by, she planned to
have a fernery around a fountain. Ferns
were brought from the Ghauts at Lanouli,
or Khandalla, where in the rainy season
they adorn in profusion the sides of the
rocky hills, clothing their native barren-
ness with a garment of tender and lovely
green. Baskets of these ferns can always
be purchased for a few annas at the rail-
way stations on the Ghauts, and many
people take them home and transplant
them, but they rarely survive the opera-
tion— they are rock-grown, and will not
root in ordinary garden soil. This was
also Ramabai's experience. But she
meant to have a fernery, and nothing
daunted by failure, she hired two bullock
carts, and went off" one day to a river-side
some twenty miles distant, where she
knew she would find what she wanted.
She brought back quantities of beautiful
maiden -hair, roots, soil, and all, and
planted her fernery, whiclj flourishes to
this day.

It is this characteristic of determination

and perseverance that has been a large
factor in the human side of her work.
Ramabai ascribes all the glory to God, 7
and looks upon herself as solely an instru- 1
ment in His hands. But she is a polished f
instrument, and will have the reward of
those who have placed all their talents
oitt at highest interest in God's service.
Her versatility is a constant source of
wonder to her friends. In a recent Report
of the Ramabai Association, Mrs. Andrews
wrote :

" Do you ask if she is equal to doing so
many things, and doing them well — of
buying and building, of planning and
executing, of farming and teaching?
Dr. Hale's words, uttered years ago, are
as true now as then, and will answer
the question : ' This little woman, who
has had this remarkable success with
audiences; who has had the wit to think
out this combination of circles which work
together so well, goes back to India.
The chances were ninety-nine out of a
hundred that she would have wasted the
whole of her money. Tiiere are very
excellent people, who can do something

"SAVED TO SAVE."

Bibkvomci at Mukti, and Bullock Tonga, rmdij to start for the villages with the Gospel message.

U'hcr.

THE HOSPITAL AT MUKTI.
the S irk fro in Famine iJiscases are nnrsol hark to life.

^\n Itflu titsaxc 16uil5in0.

of what slie has done, who have not the
slightest executive capacity ; and it ought
to be said that most people who talk well,
as she does, are singularly destitute of the
power of working well. . . . But here
this wonderful little woman who has
roused the whole country, and has raised
this sum of money, and has organized all
this thing, goes out there and proves to
be a first-rate educator. And she proves
to be a first-rate buyer, and a first-rate
person to get on with contractors.' "

We may add to this that she is a
* / •^ ^ capable farmer, and a poet of no mean
order. In the Kindergarten, which is a
part of her educational work, training the
older girls to teach the little ones, many
of the action songs used in English schools
have been aptly translated into Marathi
by Ramabai. She has also enriched the
song of the Marathi Christian C'hurch
with a number of beautiful hymns to
English as well as Indian tunes.

And the spring of all her inspiration is
love to God and man, kindled l^y that love
of Christ which constrains to spend and be
spent, and to suffer for others. Ramabai
tells how in one part of her father's house,
when she was but nine years old, there
/^lived a poor family. The family consisted
of a man of thirty years of age, his girl-
wife of sixteen, and his old mother. The
mother-in-law was all (he vort-t thit is
implied by that name in India— a lieartless
old hag, always beating, abusing, and
cruelly treating her daughter-in-law. One

day when the girl was spinning, a monkey
stole lier cotton. For this carelessness
the girl was abused by the motlier-in-law,
who nagged the husband on to beat her.
Ramabai adds : " I was an eye-witness to
all this. Her piercing cries went right to
my heart ; and I seem to hear them now
after nearly thirty years. My childish
heart was filled with indignation. I was
powerless to help. But I have never for-
gotten that poor girl's cries for help ; and
I suppose it was the first call I received to
enter upon the sacred duty of helping my
sisters according to the little strength I
had. But I never realized the extent of
grief and suffering and the need of my
sisters just as long as I remained in dark-
ness, and had no love of God in me."

The funds raised in England in the
autumn of 1899 for the new rescue
building were doubly welcome. Another
famine had broken out in India, and
this time the country around Khed-
gaon was more deeply affected. This
money came in time of need to employ
many starving people in the erection of
the rescue home. And Ramabai found
herself obliged to make the needs of her
starving neighbours known, and to help
many with work and the more helpless
witli alms. This new famine increased in
severity, and added trouble was caused by
the scarcity of water. Still Ramabai's
heart went out to the poor wandering and
starving high-caste widows.

In Bombay Presidency and the Central

Kcsci« Mark tiuriug tljt '^amim of 1900.

Provinces organized relief work met to
some extent the needs of the people ; but
in Gujerat, in which there had been no
famine for one hundred years, and in
Kajputana, a terrible state of things
existed ; and Eamabai felt she must go
and gather some of the poor girls from
these places. She knew that the emis-
saries of evil were busy already, and felt
she must be up and doing. She waited
on God to know His mind about it. She
writes : " The treasury was quite empty ;
and when the quarterly balance sheet was
prepared in the middle of October, there
was no balance left at all. Reports of the
widespread famine and the wicked traffic
in girls reached me from many sides.
Still there was nothing to be done except
to wait and pray. The Lord did not try
my faith very long. The very next day
a cheque for Rs. 272-2-0 was sent for
Mukti, and another daily need was
supplied in a wonderful manner. It was
then made clear to me that I must step
out in faith, and receive as many girls as
the Lord would have me reach. So the
work was begun at once. Workers were
stationed at different places to search for
young girls. There was no money for
buying material to build new sheds, so
some old material was gathered, and a
shed was prepared to shelter the new-
comers."

Ramabai was happy in having some
good workers to send on this errand.
They have done the greater part of the

work, though Ramal^ai paid, at least, three
visits herself to the most terribly aftlicted
districts. She says of these women that
they have shared all the hardships in the
famine relief work. " Gangabai, who has
been in this work from the beginning, has
gone through many hardships. She has
spared neither strength nor time to do all ^
she can for the famine girls. She is a
splendid worker, called of God to gather
many girls, and seems to have a special
gift in this line of work. Kashibai and
Bhimabai are both converts from Hin-
duism. Kashibai gave up her comfortable
home, her husband, and all, for the sake
of following the Master when He called
her. She is a very simple woman, very
timid and unacquainted with the wisdom
of the world. Bhimabai was a Hindu
Fakir, had travelled a great deal, visited
many sacred shrines, bathed in the sacred
rivers and tanks to have her sins washed
away; but all to no purpose. At last the
Lord took compassion on her and revealed
Himself to her as the Saviour of her soul;
and now she is a happy Christian, preach-
ing the Gospel to hundreds of village
women.

" These three simple and almost illiter-
ate women, protected by the strong and
mighty hand of God, have travelled alone
for hundreds of miles in jungles, villages,
cities, on highways and byways, in search
of starving and dying young girls. They
have walked for miles in the burning
sun ; gone without food and rest ; worked

DiffirultifG attruMna t\n t'^torh,

incessantly for tlie salvation of the dying
hundreds. Their work will be recorded
in the Book of the Lamb ; for no
one who has not borne the hardships of
work among famine-stricken people, and
been with them for days and nights, can
appreciate their labour and know what
they have to endure. I see the Gospel
declaration — 1 Corinth, i. 20-29' — veri-
fied when I see these and other simple
Christian women used of the Lord for His
service. They are doing a work from
which many a mighty man would shrink.

"It is but a small thing to fight a great
battle and win a victory with many titles,
compared with the heroism of such
women. They must be truly blind who
cannot see the strength and high courage
which the Spirit of Christ gives to the
most timid and despised women of this
country. I have more than one hundred
noble young women in my schools alone
who are nobly sacrificing their comfort,
even their lives, in the service of their
sisters. Since their conversion to Christ
they are so changed that one who was
acquainted with them before they were

1 "For ye see your calling, brethren, how that
not many wise men after the flesh, not many
mighty, not many noble, are called: but God
hath chosen the foolish things of the world to
confound the wise; and God hath chosen tlie
weak things of the world to confound the things
which are mighty; and base things of the world,
and things which are despised, hath God chosen,
yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought
things that are : that no flesh should glory in His
presence."

Christian could hardly rcci nrni.se them"
now. God be praised for His wondiMus
love, which can turn tlie sellish, unruly,
and devilish heart, and reflect into it the
beautiful image of His meek and loving
Son ! It rejoices my heart to see some of
the girls saved from the last famine going
out into the famine districts with my
workers to save the lives of their perishing
sisters in the present famine [1900].

" It is hard work to gather and save
girls and young women. Their minds
have been filled with such a dread to-
ward Christian people, that they cannot
appreciate the kindness shown them.
For instance, many of the unconverted
girls in my homes have a great fear in
their mind. They think that some day
after they are well fattened they will
be hung head downward, and a great
fire will be built imderneath, and oil
will be extracted from them to be sohl
at a fabulously large price for medical
purposes. Others think they will be
p\it into oil mills, and their bones ground.
It is only lately that our girls gathered
from the last famine have begun to lose
these dreadful thoughts; but the minds
of the new ones are filled with more
dreadful ideas than these. They cannot
understand that any one would be kind
to them without some selfish purpose.

"Bad men have succeeded in gath-
ering large numbers of girls by enticing
them away, and selling them to a bad
life. It is too shocking to the refined

iicscm 'Mark buring i\n fam'mt of 1900.

feelings of refined people ; but facts
are facts, and Christian mothers ought
to know them, that they may be
prompted to pray and to work hard for
the salvation of young girls — perhaps
of the same age as their own sweet
daufifhters. Let the thoiifjjht and love
of our daughters move our mother-hearts
to come forward and save as many of
the perishing young girls as we can. I
have found out to my great horror and
sorrow that over twelve per cent, of the
girls rescued by my workers have been
ruined for life, and had to be separated
from the other girls and placed in the
Rescue Home. The bodies of some of
these poor girls are so frightfully diseased
that there is no hope for their recovery.

" The Word of God says ' :
* Open tliy mouth for the dumb
In the cause of all such as are appointed to
destruction.'

And woe will be to me if I do not obey
the command, even at the cost of losing
the favour of the high and mighty
of this world. IMany a careless official
has allowed children to be taken away
by people who will turn the boys and
'; girls into slaves and concubines. The
poor children who have been sheltered
in poor-houses and eaten food from the
hands of people of other caste, will not
be taken back into their caste, but
■will be in lifelong slavery if they are
adopted' by Hindus or Mohammedans.

^ Prov. xxxi. 8,

The Contagious Diseases Act, which has \
again come into force under the name
of Cantonments Act, is a great power
on the side of the devil, and enables
wicked people to carry on their evil
traffic in girls for the ' benefit ' of the /
British soldiers. Missionaries and others
in their rescue work have found it much
more difficult to get girls than to gather
boys from famine districts. Men and
women who are engaged in this traffic in
flesh and blood were very busy for months
gathering girls before any of the relief
works and poor - houses were started.
Whenever they saw any of the Christian
people coming to the rescue of the girls,
they started such alarms and told such
dreadful stories about Christians, that in
many cases the girls refused to place
themselves in charge of Christians' schools,
and have gone to their destruction."

The foregoing vivid description from
Ramabai's own pen is a portion of a
Report issued by her in May, 1900. A
few more extracts from the same, con-
cerning the present condition and progress
of the Mukti school, will bring my narra-
tive near to its close.

" From a small beginning of temporary
character, the Mukti school has grown
into a permanent and large institution.
Three hundred girls rescued from starva-
tion in 1897 have received regular secular
and Christian instruction. They are the
children of many prayers ; much love and
labour have been bestowed on them ; and

THE WEAVING INDUSTRY AT MUKTI.

JJ^ifh the hand-looms oii irhir/i the Seiri, the iconieii's i/rcs.'i, ,'s made.

THE GARDENING STAFF AT MUKTI, WITH THEIR WATERPOTS.

(lothat luill luTomr of tljr (5ii'l[s?"

I am able to say, with great joy, that the
workers have not laboured in vain. The
money which so many friends have sent
for them has not been spent in vain.
The Lord is very good to let us see the
fruit of our labour ; and He is giving us
abundant joy as we see the girls growing
in grace and proving themselves worthy
of the love and labour bestowed on them.
P^ " Five hundred and eighty in the Mukti
' Sadan, and sixty girls in the Kripa Sadan,^
are beino- trained to lead a useful Chris-
I tian life. The number of the inmates of
' these homes is doubled, and will increase
as days pass by. God is greatly blessing
the work, and the prayers of our friends
in all parts of the world are answered
daily. Including the hundred girls of the
Sharada Sadan, I have altogether nearly
seven hundred and fifty girls under train-
ing. It will be easily imagined that they
need a large number of teachers and
helpers to train them. I have only six-
teen paid teachers, from outside, in these
homes. There are eighty-five other per-
sons to help me in the three institutions.
Thirty-three teachers, ten matrons, and
forty-two workers in different branches of
industry, are daily labouring for the good
of their sisters and their own improve-
ment. Although they are dependent on
these schools for their dnily bread, they
may be said to earn their own living, as
most of them receive no pay, or have but

' Kvipa Sadan— Home of Grace— is the name
of the Kedcue Home started hist year.

nominal pay. The Sharada Sadan has
trained seventy teachers and workers in
the past eleven years; and the Mukti
school has trained nearly eighty girls to
earn their own living in the past three
years. Eighty-five of the old and new
girls have found work in their own
mother institutions ; and sixty-five of tlie
old girls are either married or earning
their living as teachers and workers in
different places.

" A question has often been asked,
namely : What is to become of all
these girls? It is not difficult to answer/
it. India is a large country, and a vast
amount of ignorance prevails everywhere.
Men and women of education and charac-
ter are needed, to enlighten this and the
coming generation. I have had a hundred
requests from missionaries and superin-j
tendents of schools to give them trained

teachers, Biblewomen, or matrons. I ,

• i

have had quite as many, perhaps more,

requests from young men to give tiiem

educated wives. It will not be difficult

to find good places and comfortable homes

for all these young girls when the proper

time comes. My heart is burdened with

the thought that there are more than

one hundred and forty-five millions of

women in this country who need to have

the light of the knowledge of God's love

given them ! All the work that is being

done by missionaries and their assistants

in this vast land is but a drop in the

ocean. It will be very small help to add

^tscm Wiavk hnv'uxQ i\jt ^Famine of 1900.

our particle to that drop. But every
particle added will increase the drop; so it
will be multiplied, and permeate the ocean
imtil it becomes a stream of the living
water that flows from under the throne of
Grod, to give life and joy to this nation.
My aim is to train all these girls to do
some work or other. Over two hundred
of the present number have much intelli-
gence, and promise to be good school
teachers after they receive a few years'
training. Thirty of the bigger girls have
joined a training class for nurses. Some
of them have mastered the trade of oil-
making. Others have learnt to do laundry
work, and some have learnt dairy work.
More than sixty have learnt to cook very
nicely. Fifty or more have had some
training in field work; but want of rain
has stopped that branch of our industry,
which will, I hope, be started again after
the rain falls. Forty girls have learnt to
weave nicely ; and more than tifty have
learnt to sew well, and make their own gar-
ments. The rest, small and large, are learn-
ing to do some work with ' the three E's.'

" One of the smaller girls rescued from
starvation in the last famine is taking-
charge of a few of our blind girls. Miss
Abrams very kindly taught her to read
the blind characters. The girl herself is
studying hard while engaged in teaching
the blind girls to read the Scriptures.
Besides reading the Scriptures she teaches
them tables, mental arithmetic, and
geography, in her spare hours. She sees

to their bathing, taking meals at proper
times, and can be seen going about her
work with her family of the blind and
feeble-minded girls. Her heart goes out
to the weak and friendless; and, as soon
as she sees some one who is not loved by
other girls, she befriends her and takes
charge of her at once. She is a truly
converted Christian girl, trying to follow
in the steps of her Divine Saviour. This
and other instances of converted girls
endeavouring to do what they can to
alleviate the sufferings of their sisters
while yet in school and busy with their
work, are a great encouragement to us
workers, who thank God for being so good
as to let us see that our labours are
not lost.

" Some girls who are not intellectually
bright have a mother's heart, which is full
of love for children. They are appointed
as matrons, and have small groups of
children under their charge, and love and
care for them. These very girls, who are
so gentle and loving now, were very wild,
greedy, and selfish, before their conversion
to Christ. One would hardly have be-
lieved that they could ever be so changed
and become what they are now. But the
Scripture says nothing is impossible with
God. His love has won their hearts, and
He has made them new creatures in
Christ. It must not, however, be imder-
stood that our school and mission, and the
workers connected with them, are models
of perfection. We are all very defective,

]£ Mtorh tlj^ (^irls carry on.

make man}' mistakes, and our flesh many
a time gets the better of us. You will
find many faults in us, if you look out for
them. The Lord knows that we are
nothinsr but dust. But He in His
supreme love does not give us up for lost,
but chastens and brings us back into the
right way, and lets us know why He
chastised us. We thank Him with all our
hearts for His unspeakable love and mercy.

"Most of my helpers have joined the
Bible Training Class taught by Miss
Abrams. The daily study of the Word of
God has made them willing workers.
* The law of the Lord is perfect, convert-
ing the soul.' We have found that no-
thing helps so much to make matters
straight as the study of God's Word.
Out of this Bible Training Class I hope
there will rise a trained band of Bible-
women, who will take the Gospel to their
sisters in their own homes. Some girls
have already begun to go about in the
villages around here. They are working
as Zenana Biblewomen and Sunday
School teachers in their spare time.

" Khedgaon is by no means a romantic

place. The girls have to walk a long

distance in the burning sun, bare-footed

and without umbrellas, to go to bathe by

the wells. They have to rise as early as

four in the morning in order to Sfet their

day's work done. . . . School is always

closed on Saturdays, Sundays, and other

festival days. In long holidays, as in

May and December, they have to do some
M

little work in order to keep their minds
busy. The girls who cook in the morn-
ing have to rise as early as two o'clock.
Two classes, having twenty-five or thirty
girls in each, have to cook and serve by
turns. Those who cook in the morning
have their rest in the afternoon. Their
time of work is changed after a few
weeks. When one class has mastered
the work assigned to it, another takes
up the work, and the former one begins
to learn something else. In this way
all the girls are trained to do almost
every kind of work done here. All get
from seven to eight hours' sleep. They
are neither over-fed nor get too delicate
food ; but none of them are under-fed.
They get three good meals a day, as a
rule. The weak and sick ones, as well as
the very little children, have milk and
other nourishing food. We have a regu-
larly trained hospital nurse — a good
Christian woman — to look after the sani-
tary condition of the place. She has a
large band of girls working under her.
No time, labour, or money, has been
spared to save life and make the girls
comfortable. But weakness produced by
prolonged starvation, and the extreme
heat caused by want of rain, have been
difficult to cope with. Yet I cannot but
thank God out of the fulness of my heart
for so wonderfully protecting so many
hundreds of lives from plague and famine.
Although life at Khedgaon is hard, the
girls look fat and healthy, and are full of

^tsaxt Wioxk 5urin0 tlje IFamttti of 1900.

spirits. I find that hard work makes
better women of the girls. The easy and
comfortable city life is, of course, pre-
ferred by the flesh ; but life in places like
Khedgaon, with fewer comforts and
harder work, is more conducive to bodily
and spiritual health."

A member of the Poona and Indian
Village Mission, who visited Eamabai
about this time, writes : " As we walked
through the extensive grounds of Mukti
Home, I was deeply interested to learn
how the Lord had led this child of His to
double the capacity of Mukti in a few
short months. ' When I determined to
rescue hundreds in Gujerat last August, I
had not a pice in hand ; but after the
determination had been made, the Lord
sent Es. 242,' she said : ' this money was
an earnest of thousands sent during the
months to follow.'

" We paused in our walk before a sub-
stantially built stone wall, eigliteen inches
thick and four hundred feet long, partially
roofed over by tiles ; running parallel at
a distance of eight or ten feet another
stone wall will be built a few feet hich,
and thus, partitioned at intervals of fifty
feet, eight dormitories will be ready when
the monsoons break. These walls were
entirely built of the stones taken from the
ground in the excavation of four wells.
A little further on, I observed a temporary
building without walls, hedged about with
prickly branches, making an exit impos-
sible. 'This ward,' said Ramabai, 'is for

children having infectious diseases.' In
other buildings were children in various
staofes of weakness. There were little
ones in cots, so emaciated that one won-
dered how the spark of life had been
preserved ; there were weakly ones able
to totter about — children who had grown
prematurely old through suffering, but
who, with careful attention and nourishing
food, such as arrowroot, condensed foods,
and milk, would be able to study and to
work in six months' time. How could one
help but praise God for bestowing such
kindness and care upon these waifs? It
was a pleasure to learn that an Indian
Christian trained nurse was teaching some
of the older orphan girls to serve in that
capacity. Out of eighty teachers and
helpers in jNIukti Home, sixty-four are old
orphan scholars, most of whom were
rescued in 1897. 'Are they truly con-
verted women? ' I asked. I shall not soon
forget the look on Eamabai's face and her
words: 'Yes; they are truly converted.;
it would be impossible for them patiently
to care for such repulsive and loathsome
cases if the grace of God was not in their
hearts.' There was much to praise God for,
in all that one saw and heard that memor-
able evening-. Here in Mukti Home were
scores who had been truly converted to
God ; and in a few mouths' time there
will be probably a thousand ^ in the

^ On August 3rd, 1900, Ramabai reports having
received one thousand five hundred and fifty, and
they were stilL coming, - . '.

win yaU of tijc y^minc .^trirhcn.

shelter of a real Christian Home ; trained
in an eminently sensible way to regard
work as honourable, living simply as
natives live, and fitted for lives of use-
fulness.

" Pandita Eamabai is a spiritually-
minded Christian, one whose testimony,
by life and lip, has no uncertain sound —
a woman who believes the Bible to be the
inspired Word of God, and whose teaching
is untouched by the fatal poison of higher
criticism ; one who believes unreservedly
in the efificacy of the atoning blood of
Christ for the guilt of sin, and who
reckons upon the power of the Holy
Ghost for service ; a woman equipped by
God to lead and to organize, and under
God's grace to educate and train India's
sons and daughters for lives of service
along Holy Ghost lines."

Kamabai's reference to the necessity of
the girls having been really converted
before they could care patiently for the
newly-arrived victims of famine, is ac-
centuated by a description of some of
these cases, written by a missionary who
has cared for many of them, and who
says : " Some have bad bowel troubles,
piles, etc. These need special attention
as to diet. Others have great boils and
sores to be washed, cleansed out, bandaged,
and treated every day. Others have bad
sore eyes. Some have a kind of whooping
cough with vomiting of blood.

" But the most dreaded of all, and
what is so painful, is the famine sore

mouth. When once it has a headway
in the mouth, nothing but prayer can
stop its progress. It eats great lumps of
flesh out of jaws, roof of the mouth, and
eats the gums away from the teeth, and
teeth drop out. We have had several of
these cases, and the odour from them is
almost unbearable. While trying to wash
their mouths, whieli was done every two
hours, the effort would almost take away
our breath. Frequently the poor sufferers
are released by death caused from the
awful disease eating into the windpipe.
When that is the case no earthly help
can avail. God has wonderfully delivered
from pain and*death ; but some were in
such a frightful condition we could not
but be glad when death released them.

" Some have the famine sore head.
This is not so obstinate, but may linger
for months and even years without en-
tirely healing. The head is sometimes,
when we first get them, one mass of blood,
pus, vermin, and scab. It has to be
scraped and cleansed, then watched closely
till healed. All have fevers and more or
less pulmonary troubles from exposure to
the cold night-air. Some you can scarcely
locate their trouble. They seem to be in
a decline; and though they eat heartily
they waste away."

Another missionary who visited Mukti
in May, 1900, says : " This place has im-
proved much since my last visit here a
year and a half ago. Many buildings
have gone up and more are being built.

Husriw Wiavh. iruring tlj£ ^amint of 1900.

the plans all drawn up by Eamabai.
Palm and other trees have been planted ;
flowers and shrubs, also an artificial pond
with water lilies and ferneries, make
the place very beautiful and attractive.
Things are kept scrupulously clean. One
of the workers told me Eamabai has a
real mother's heart ; and when she has to
punish one (which is often necessary), slie
is miserable until the girl is conquered
and comes and asks her forgiveness ; then
she kisses her with weeping, and they go
away and pray together."

[Eamabai is unique in her methods
of pvmishing as well as in other things.
One visitor relates how she found a
shamefaced little girl tied up among the
calves. On questioning her as to why
she was there, she confessed to having
been convicted of pilfering. Her con-
trition was evidently genuine, and the
visitor thought the same punishment
would not be twice needed.]

"The pupils are separated into com-
panies: girls of one size and age being put
in one room, and the next size in another,
with several older girls to look after them.
In this way they are marched out to the
dining-room, the little girls of five or six
years coming first, two by two, and so
increasing in size until the full-grown
girls close up the ranks. In like manner
they are marched out to the well daily,
which is some distance from the house,
for their baths. Each one carries her
clean sari on her head which is put on

there after the bath, and the dirty one
washed and carried home to dry.

"It was quite an interesting sight to
see the long, straight line of girls march-
ing down the road, two by two, the other
morning. I fell into line and marched
with them to the well. How they did
enjoy plunging into the deep reservoir of
water ; and what screaming and laughing
and talking as they splashed around in
the water, throwing it on each other!
After bathing, all fell to washing their
clothes ; even the little ones washing away
till helped out by their older sisters. The
water is drawn from the well by six strong
bullocks, a large stream continually flow-
ing into the reservoirs and from there out
into the fields in which Eamabai has
large fruit plantations and vegetable
gardens.

" The Eescue Home here is by itself,
and has seventy-five women now. They
grind their own flour, do their own cook-
ing, and have their own hospital. As I
entered their compound, I was surrounded ',
by a company of contented-looking
women, all speaking to me at once and
all trying to touch my hands. My heart
was melted in pity for them. Some
looked healthy and strong, and others were
smitten with consumption, and others with
still more dreadful diseases. I thought
what a wonderful and broad salvation this
is, to take in these low outcasts, and pre-
pare a home of refuge for them, as well as
for the respectable and moral. It being

Tiolljrn t\)£ ^rrasitr^j is CBrnpiii.

the hour for prn^^er, tliey all sat down on
the ground and commenced singing.
Some of tlie older girls come in with
Bibles — and one read a chapter; another
prayed. As I showed a kindly interest,
eyes moistened and faces softened, and I
thought how much might be done with a
little sympathy. I felt that Jesus had
been near."

But to return to Ramabai's Eeport.
She goes on to tell of a time of testing
and trial in temporal supplies. " The
storeroom was almost empty, and the
saries of our girls and most of their
blankets had turned into old rao;s —
there was no money to buy new saries
and blankets. But saries had been
ordered from the cloth merchants, with
the understanding that they were to take
all back if by a certain date their bills
were not paid ; not one of them, however,
was touched. Grain and other necessi-
ties of life were not ordered for the
month. Many people could not under-
stand why I had to make certain changes
in food, etc. But the Lord knew all
about it. He let the trials come at
certain times, and let the house and
treasury be quite empty only to fill
them again. He made me realize from
time to time that His ' hand is not
shortened, that it cannot save ; neither
His ear heavy, that it cannot hear."
No one was informed about the needs at
times of trial ; but according to the com-

^ Isa. lix. 1.

mand of God' all requests were made
known to Him, and He did keep ray
mind in perfect peace in Christ, and
sent help in His own good time, to l)ny
not only grain, but saries and blankets,
etc., for the old and new girls.

"The work of rescuing girls went on
and is still going on, in spite of all
difficulties and trials; for God makes it
very plain to me from time to time, by
removing obstacles when they come, that
it is His will that this work should not
be stopped until He Himself stops it.
Agur's prayer "is being answered in om-
case. We are not allowed too much or
too little of food and clothing and other
comforts. Moreover, the Lord is teach-
ing our Christian girls to deny themselves
a little for the sake of others, that they
may meet the expenses of their Christian
instruction and other church expenses.
He sent us a message one day to give up
one of our meals on Sundays to save
money to feed tlie hungry and poor, and
to help His work in other missions.
Most of the girls very cheerfully came
forward with the request to cut off one
of their meals on Sundays, and the money
thus saved has been used to feed the
Lord's poor and to help on His work in
other places.

" The question of self-support of Indian /

Christian Churches is becoming a very
serious one. The Indian Christians are very
poor, it is true, and will not be able to

riiil. iv. G.

^ Prov. XXX. 8, 9.

^tsau Wiark tturing i\jt yarning of 1900,

pay the hig-h salaries and bear the heavy
expenses of fashionable churches. But
as Hindus neither they nor their parents
looked to some other nation, or to the high
priests, for the support of their tenaples
and their priesthood. As Christians
there is no reason why they should not
train themselves and their children to
deny themselves, and to systematic giv-
ing. The Lord showed me this was my
op]3ortunity to practise and teach what I
believed ; and I am very thankful to
say that the experiment has proved to
be a success, and the Lord's promise in
Mai. iii. 10 has been literally fulfilled.
Some of us perhaps give one-fiftieth or
one-hundredth part of our income to the
Church, and that too with great reluc-
tance, and call it tithe ; but little
realize that the tithe is no less than
one-tenth of the whole; and that is the
income tax God would have us oive
Him for His poor. If we give one-
twentieth or fiftieth part and call it a
tithe, or give very little with great
reluctance, we are robbing God of His
dues, and robbing ourselves of great
blessings which He is eager to give us
if we only accept them by fulfilling the
conditions. This, to me, seems to be the
true cause of the material poverty of the
Native Christian Chui-ch in India. We

must not expect that God will give us
many spiritual and temporal blessings
unless we cheerfully fulfil the conditions,
on which He has promised them to us."

Kamabai concludes her most interesting-
recital of the condition and growth of this,
wonderful work with a paragraph which
will do equally well for the close of this,
volume ; and here we must leave her.

" God gave me a special message from
His Word a few days ago to give all the
friends who are helping the Lord's work
at Mukti and other missions, which I pass
on to you. It is this : ' He that giveth
unto the poor shall not lack.'^ You have
denied yourself in many ways for the sake
of giving money for the poor women and
children sheltered in our homes, but you
have this rich promise from the Lord as
your reward. God bless you all. As for
me, I have His sure word to depend upon.
' He that spared not His own Son, but
delivered Him up for us all, how shall He
not with Him also freely give us all
things ? ' Now, ' Unto Him that loved
us, and washed us from our sins in His
own blood, and hath made us kings and
priests unto God, and His Father; to
Him be glory and dominion for ever and
ever. Amen.' "

^ Prov. xxviii. 27.

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